For My G.Ma - Felicia

I never knew I would miss her this much.

People never understood why I love Christmas. I didn’t quite get it too – apart  from the bursting joy of the birth of Christ, the melodious songs and beautiful decorations; there was more to the super hyper and lovey-dovey feeling I always have this season.

So, I was scrolling through my phone gallery and saw the last photo I had with my G.Ma. Oh by the way, Christmas was her birth and death day. I’m writing this because of her. Just to share a bit of her awesomeness with you.

That woman was a bad-ass! Reminiscing on my childhood memories with her, I realized she was the reason I love Christmas.

I usually spent my Christmas and New-Year holidays with her as a child. She would take me to her church and ask the priest to allow me join other children in the Christmas carol rehearsals and performances.

She would take me to the salon and have my hair done and accessorized. I hated making my hair, it was just too stressful. I remember one of those years, we had spent long hours making and decorating the ‘Christmas hair’. But boy! It was too tight. At first, I didn’t want to complain because I saw that she loved it – she had this warm smile on her face as soon as she saw the hair. 

My G.Ma rarely laughed out loud but when she does, she laughs with the whole of her body and heart. You wouldn’t know when you start to laugh too; it was that contagious.

We got to the church that night and I was so uncomfortable. I refused to join other kids for the performance. I was literally sick and in the middle of the service, I told her the truth behind my pain – it was the hair. Immediately, she abandoned every other thing and took out the hair. She didn’t care if we were in church, all she wanted was my comfort and I was indeed relieved from the strands of rubber – the popular knotted ‘kiko’ style.

My Grandma was such a gem. Beautiful dark skinned with some strong white teeth and great dentition. She was very opinionated, independent and industrious.  She loved to cater and care for people. Young women and men in her neighbourhood would always come to her for advice and she was never tired of them.

She respected everyone and loves children – she had a really tough and very long time having children of her own.

She loved, laughed and lived. I think she was quite stubborn, so am I. She prayed every single day and mentioned each person’s specific names and her request for them. Some names I knew and many I didn’t. I must have learnt this connected and beautiful act of prayer through her.

Every night, she would tell me a story from the bible. She was very descriptive and I would imagine every word and character. They became real to me –Jesus became real to me and I fell in love with him through her stories.

The year she passed, I had wished to have a different Christmas. I had grown up and was tired of the regular stuff – going to Grandma’s house. I just wanted to do other things on Christmas day and when she died, indeed I had a different Christmas and for a while, I carried the guilt in my heart.

The guilt that I didn’t care enough, that I didn’t visit as often as I should have. The guilt of not remembering to return her calls, I felt sad that I wasn’t entirely present even while speaking on the phone with her on the eve of Christmas. I was busy cooking and making arrangements!

If only I knew that was going to be the last time, perhaps I would have spent more time on the phone with her. Maybe I would have held her in my arms until her last gasp.

She taught me through her death and life to be PRESENT.

I miss her deeply and thankful for all the sacrifices.

Well, I asked for something different and she sure gave a show. She knew I love Christmas and knows perhaps, that I would not forget her in a hurry!

For my G.Ma – Felicia.

I’m still loving and learning to be more PRESENT.

Just so you know, Christmas hasn’t been the same without you.

I love you.

Your OluwaTosin,