Genma Speaks

Entrepreneur/ Writer/ Radio-Producer/Host

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Tuesday, October 21, 2014

When A Grandmother Calls

My maternal grandparents helped shape my thoughts, values, and paved paths for me even when I was not aware of them doing so. They gave me the audacity to dream and prepared me to take giant leaps in life by being loving and supportive. Now that I am a grandparent, I want 'Grand Prince' to have that same confidence to dream big and know he is loved. Being a grandparent has taught me a love that I would have never known existed and helps me appreciate the relationship I have had with my grandparents all my life. The love of a grandparent is like no other.

Being a card carrying member of the grandparents' club now, I know from first hand experience, when a grandmother is deeply involved in a child's life, the sky is the limit. The child is going to soar because a grandmother can will it to be. Or at the very least, try to pull the sky closer for her grandchild to reach it. Do not believe a grandmother  would not grab a corner of the galaxy to make things happen? Keep reading.

I received an urgent call from a dear friend who has a grandchild who has sickle cell. She said in a very determined voice, "I need you to get the word out about the petition on White House.Gov to declare sickle cell a national priority. We must let others know more about sickle cell disease. We can not let any more funding be cut from research. Nor can we let any more clinics be closed. This is very important!" In the next breath, she reminded of the power of a grandmother's love. "You know my grand-baby has sickle cell. This is not an issue or cause, it is my grand-baby's life we are talking about."


My friend, a grandmother of a young free spirit with sickle cell, was prepared to organize a ride to moon if that was what it was going to take to get enough signatures to get the attention of the President. On the day of the call, the petition had around 22,000 signatures. The petition needed 100,000 and the deadline was looming a few days away. With sickle cell affecting 90,000 Americans and 3 million individuals are trait carriers of the sickle cell disease, this petition was important to many families.
Sickle Cell Disease is a group of inherited red blood cell disorders. Normal red blood cells are round like doughnuts, and they move through small blood tubes in the body to deliver oxygen. Sickle red blood cells become hard, sticky and shaped like sickles used to cut wheat. When these hard and pointed red cells go through the small blood tube, they clog the flow and break apart. This can cause pain, damage and a low blood count, or anemia.

Sickle Cell Disease is a major public health concern causing critical healthcare impacts in the nation. After talking through a strategic grass roots plan with my friend, I promised her that I would share her message and the information she had sent me with others. Within a few hours of us working our Rolodex, emails, and social media accounts, there was a noticeable increase in the numbers. Two days later, every Bam Mom, Big Mom, Gramma, Grammy, Grams, Grandma, Grandmama, Grandmother, Grandma, Grannie, Ma, Maw, Memaw, Mom-mo, Nanas, and one Grand Diva were contacted to sign the online petition. If they were not internet savvy, we suggested getting a grandchild to walk them through the process.

Alaira with her mother and grandmother.
 

Two days before the deadline and three days after the call, the Sickle Cell Disease Petition to the White House had met the required numbers and then some. It is amazing what happens when a community comes together for the greater good and the effectiveness of social media. It is even more amazing to see the love of a grandmother in action. It is a beautiful site to behold.

Thank you for signing the petition!
The little angel above thanks you as well as her grandmother (and the rest of the family) who loves her dearly!


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Wednesday, January 23, 2013

My Grandmother and I

I visit my grandmother as often as I can. I have written about her in many blog posts, my news column, and I have spoken about her on my radio show. I can talk endlessly about my grandmother. My grandmother has even gotten a shout out on social media.



Each visit home brings new revelations about my grandmother’s life. She is not perfect but she is my beloved. Each visit gives more insight into who I am and my personality, the many lives my grandmother has impacted, the power of love, and the grace of God. Each visit leaves me humbled and grateful for the smaller things in life.

My holiday visit was my most recent trip. I did not tell my grandmother when I was coming, only that I was coming. I have learned that giving a specific date leads to disappointments for both of us. My schedule is that of a mad woman and no matter how I try to be specific about dates or times, life interrupts. But when I say I am coming, she knows, rain or shine, snow or ice, I am going to make my way to Mississippi.

For Christmas 2012, I made it hours shy of Christmas Day. But I came in full Ms. Santa’s gear. I sneaked into town and drove straight to the nursing home where she resides. After getting buzzed in, I winked at the nurses who were all smiles (and probably all kinfolks in one way or another) when they saw me. I knew she would be up watching TV. I put down my bags of goodies for her and the other residents of the home and I walked up behind her.

In her ear, I whispered, “What’s up chic?” Her tears started flowing almost immediately as she turned to look up at me. Upon hearing my voice, my grandmother said, “My baby is home. Yes, my baby is home.” My tears started too. We carry own like this every time we see each other.

Surprise!



There is never a shortage of tears when we greet each other. We cry for a while and then start laughing and then start crying some more. She boldly stated after gathering her wits, “I knew you were coming.” Hugging her for what seemed an eternity, I said, “Mother you look so good!”

After giving me a head to toe inspection, she said, “You look good, too.” She then touched my Santa suit and the pearls she gave me years ago and started talking nonstop. Soon our roles of grandmother and granddaughter, flesh of her flesh, meshed into two hens without a care in the world. Time seemed to stand still as we picked up where we left off. We seemed joined at the hip in thought and speech. I had to stop our conversation because I realized everyone was watching us.

I gathered her things and off to her room we rolled to finish our conversation. For the rest of the day, we caught up on all things in my little home town, and I shared about life in Nashville. The more we talked, the louder we laughed, and the more folks came to her door to make sure we were okay.

My grandmother reading a copy of Mocha Market


At some point, I had to pull myself away. My grandmother was in good spirits, and it showed. I finally managed to make my way to Stringer Drive to my parents’ home.


Once there, I unpacked and exchanged gifts with my mom and dad. My grandmother’s well-being was on everyone’s mind. I encouraged them by telling them how good my grandmother looked; the hard work of the family was obvious. My evening was spent catching up on the holistic welfare of my grandmother.

Later, I got busy around my mom’s cooking and planning a New Year Eve’s bash for my grandmother and the other residents of the nursing home. My head was racing with ideas. I brought party items from Nashville, but I still needed to go to town (Natchez, MS) to get a few more items. Immediately I thought about Nashville and for a brief moment, I wanted to be Jasmine with a magic carpet. The next day, I managed to make it to Natchez, shop for items, and get back to Fayette in less than two hours. Whew!

On New Year’s Eve, my grandmother and I had the grandest time. There were many at the party, but we were having our own party. Decked out in her 2013 top hat and jewelry, she laughed and blew her horns. She wore “sparkly” nails that told you she was in a festive move. The dining hall was beautifully decorated. We popped the bubbly, sparkling grape juice, and the staffed toasted every good deed EVER done! Most laughed like no tomorrow while one of the residents, Slater, danced the time away! I soaked up the sight of my grandmother having so much fun.





Slater Dancing like it is 1999!



As usual, the time with my grandmother came to an end much too quickly. I dreaded driving back to Tennessee. Leaving is always the hardest part of my trips home. My carload becomes lighter but my heart gets heavier each time. On my way back to Nashville, I saw a billboard that read “Visit Vicksburg”. I whispered quietly, “Thank you God for my grandmother.”

Seeing the billboard reminded me of New Year’s Eve 2011 at Vicksburg’s Mercy Hospital. My grandmother was hospitalized after being very ill for weeks. In 2011, I spent the holidays with my grandmother in the hospital. We laughed but not nearly as much. We cried, too, but my tears that year were of sadness from watching her struggle to live. I prayed daily that her body would be without the drips, needles, nurses, doctors, and pills for a pill. And this Christmas 2012, she was doing just fine.

New Year's Eve 2011

Christmas Day 2011
New Year's Eve 2012

New Year's Eve 2012
Look at God. What a difference a year makes. God answers prayers. My grandmother and I were toasting to bring in 2012 with Ensure and were popping Champagne and dancing to bring in 2013. Did I mention we laughed a lot?

Oh my, I serve a mighty good God!



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