Last year, around this time, I was really just beginning to mourn the death of my father, who gave up his earthly vessel on November 25, 2005. He had not yet reached 60 years of age. On Sunday, December 10, 2006, my maternal grandmother died. My grandmother was Ms. Lillian Alexander, lovingly known to family, and friends alike, as ‘Big Momma’; or, if you chose to be a bit more formal, ‘Ms. Lilly’.
Big Momma was a 5 foot 3 inch, 130 pound (at her heaviest), filled with life, made the best biscuits – from scratch – this side of the GALAXY, ‘Big Momma don’t take no mess’, little ball of fire and God-fearing inspiration.
Ms. Lilly NEVER left the house without her coat/jacket/sweater, her hat (always fashionable, depending upon the outfit, of course), her heels and her lipstick. She was raised during a time when men and women ‘dressed’ everyday, always looking their best, and women rarely wore pants. Her manicure was perfect, her hair flawless, not a strand of hair out of place on her beautiful head.
Big Momma was very soft-spoken, although you clearly heard each and every word she said. She had a wonderful sense of humor and a laugh that was highly infectious.
Ms. Lillian Alexander was Blessed to live on this earth for 96 years, 6 months and 5 days. Yep, that’s right – 96 YEARS. She gave birth to 16 children, had more grandchildren, great grandchildren and great, great grandchildren than I can currently count and was loved by each and every person who ever met her. And, until a few years ago, she still made those GALAXY-famous biscuits.
I wrote the following as a comment on a Friend’s blog, not long ago, and it’s quite appropriate here…….Grief is grief. You do what it takes to make you feel better - you cry, you scream, throw a few things, run, exercise until you pass out - whatever - and then you move on. I've learned that we must enjoy the 'now', because you don't know what tomorrow may hold.
Yesterday, someone told me that the holidays will never be the same for me again. These are true words, but not in a negative sense. Each time I remember my grandmother, Big Momma, I will smile – sometimes even laugh - just as I am beginning to remember my father. I am Blessed to have known them both and to be a part of the lineage of both. Just as this is the season to celebrate the birth of Christ (the true reason for the season, in my humble opinion), I choose to celebrate the lives of my father and my Big Momma. And I choose to celebrate my own.
