The Last Time I Saw My Grandmother
Sharing Love, Memories, and Laughs
Family trips are a rarity in my family. When I was a young child, my parents would send me to Grenada for a month. After my siblings were born, my mother would bring the three of us. My father might join us for a few days, but he usually had to work.
When my paternal grandfather got sick, I was in college and earning good internship money. I went to see him “one last time,” but when he kept on living for another five or six years, I promised myself I’d visit every year after that for as long as my grandparents were alive. I consider it a miraculous blessing that I was able to keep my promise of yearly visits, despite seasons of financial uncertainty and unemployment.
Once I got married, I began to make the trips with my husband. By that time both my mother and my paternal grandfather had passed away, and my maternal grandmother had moved back there. With two grandmothers living in Grenada, I then had two reasons to keep my promise. And so I continued to visit at least once a year.
The last time I saw my paternal grandmother was special. It was a family trip with my husband, siblings, and father. Such a full family trip hadn’t happened since we had gone to help my paternal grandparents celebrate a milestone wedding anniversary nearly twenty years…
