Love Notes From Adriane

One hundred and nineteen days ago, I received the call from my mom, delivering the news of my grandmother’s passing. Despite knowing her time was near while she was on hospice, I clung to hope that she’d remain by my side a little longer. The call came unexpectedly, catching me in the CVS parking lot, about to pick up a prescription. ‘Granny just passed,’ my mom’s words echoed in my mind. I took a deep breath, suppressing my emotions as society expects of black women – to be strong, composed, and tearless.

A week later, I made the journey back to my hometown for her funeral. The weight of grief and anxiety overwhelmed me as I prepared to deliver a speech. Her absence felt surreal, her death unfathomable, despite seeing her lifeless body at the wake. Our shared laughter and conversations flashed before me, contrasting with the harsh reality of never speaking to her again.

Driving home after the funeral, surrounded by sleeping passengers, I finally allowed myself to grieve. Tears flowed freely, hours slipping away as I mourned the loss of my biggest supporter, my cherished Granny.

As her first heavenly birthday approaches, my heart aches with sadness and longing. I feel incomplete, knowing life will never be the same without her. Yet, amidst the pain, I find solace in praying for her guidance and protection. Though I can no longer seek her wisdom through calls, I rely on her spirit to illuminate my path from above.

To anyone navigating grief, may God grant you comfort and understanding. Though life may seem paused in the aftermath of loss, with each passing day, the burden lightens, and healing begins.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Granny. I love you, always.