The best way that I can honor her life is to love: Love people when I have a headache and when I’m exhausted, when I’m disappointed with life and when others have given me more reasons to forgive them than to celebrate them. This will be my first Mother’s Day without her. She didn’t spare the rod when it came to discipline, because it was imperative to her that I respect people and develop good character that would travel through life with me long after she was gone.My grandma died in March. And regarding physical touch: She didn’t initiate hugs or kisses, but she also didn’t turn me away when I did. As a result, I didn’t miss too much time outside playing. I remember my first bike, first video game, and first stereo, all fruits of my grandmother’s labor.Thank God for every time she nursed me back to good health with homemade soup or another home remedy. We spent time together watching reruns of some of her old favorites like “The Waltons,” “The Andy Griffith Show,” and “Leave It to Beaver.”She doted on me via gifts – using minimal wages as a custodial engineer for the Philadelphia School District – so much so that when I saw a copy of her W-2 when applying for college financial aid, I felt terrible guilt for wanting so much over the years. She raised me and my older sister after our parents’ failures proved insurmountable.Sometimes she called me “bighead” as a term of endearment and shook her head at my silliness. Before any bestselling book outlined the five love languages – words of affirmation, quality time, gift giving, acts of service, and physical touch – my grandmother taught them to me.
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