Two days ago, my family buried my grandmother at the age of 91. With her passing, a profound realization has settled over me: I have become the Elder. Both of my parents are gone. Both sets of grandparents have passed. The mantle of family leadership, whether I am ready for it or not, now rests on my shoulders.
As I process this new reality, I find myself reflecting on the type of person my grandmother was. My cousins and I called her Mamma, and she embodied everything that name represents. To understand her character, I need to share a story from 2003 that perfectly captures who she was.
A Door That Never Closed
Back in ’03, I was facing eviction and didn’t know where to turn. So I called Mamma and asked if I could stay with them for a while. Without hesitation, she said of course I could stay as long as I needed. Now, you got to understand the situation – my two sisters, my cousin, and both my grandparents were already living in this two-bedroom apartment. But Mamma just said, “We’ll make it work.”
So I moved in. Started getting my life together, got myself a steady job. I’d offer to help with rent and groceries, but she wouldn’t hear none of it. “Save your money, Little Van,” she’d tell me every time.
Then one day, out of nowhere, this letter comes from housing. After she read it, Mamma came to me looking serious. “Little Van, I need you to read this letter for me.”
When I read it, my heart just dropped. The letter said that due to my criminal record, I wasn’t allowed to live in housing. They gave me a certain number of days to leave, or they would evict my grandparents. They were coming on a specific date to do an inspection to make sure I was gone.
Man, I was stressed. All these thoughts running through my head about where I was gonna go, what I was gonna do. I handed the letter back to Mamma, and I couldn’t even speak because my mind was racing.
But you know what she said? “Little Van, you don’t have to go nowhere. You don’t give us any problems or trouble. Here’s what we’re going to do. On the day of the inspection, we’ll hide your stuff and you leave before they come. Once they’re done, I’ll call you and you can come back.”
She was willing to risk eviction to make sure I was good.
The Word That Defines Her: CARING
When I started writing about Mamma, I knew I wanted to share that story because it shows exactly who she was. The word that comes to mind is CARING. They simply do not make people like her anymore.
Mamma had eight children, starting when she was just a teenager. She raised all of them and continued taking care of some even when they became adults. She helped care for my grandfather’s siblings. Then she raised and took care of grandchildren, including me. All while dealing with my grandfather running the streets and creating his own set of problems.
Throughout all of this, whenever a family member was down or at a low point, her door was always open. You needed a helping hand? Mamma was there. The remarkable thing is that I never once heard her complain or say she needed a break. She loved her family, period.
A Vanishing Breed
As time passes and the old guard leaves this world, I observe that we as humans are becoming less concerned, less compassionate, and less considerate toward one another. Mamma represented something that feels increasingly rare: she put others before herself without question or condition.
In our current society, such selfless dedication has become almost revolutionary. The idea of risking your own housing security for a family member with a criminal record, of never accepting help while constantly providing it, of raising multiple generations without complaint – these actions seem almost incomprehensible in our increasingly individualistic world.
Carrying Forward Her Legacy
I understand now that becoming the Elder means more than just being the oldest surviving family member. It means carrying forward the values and principles that defined those who came before us. Mamma’s legacy is not just in the lives she touched, but in the standard she set for how we should treat one another.
I will do my best to continue that legacy while keeping my fond memories of her close to my heart. Her example reminds me that true strength lies not in what we accumulate for ourselves, but in what we sacrifice for others. Her door was always open, and I am committed to ensuring that spirit of unconditional love and support continues in our family.
She will be extremely missed. I love you, Mamma, and may you rest in paradise.
The Elder’s journey begins now, guided by the immeasurable wisdom of a woman who showed me that caring for others is not just what we do – it is who we are.
