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On Cinco de Mayo, we lowered Gram’s body into the ground. Six days prior, while rushing home to say my final goodbye, I made her a deathbed promise: that her story would finally be told. It was the same story she asked me to write in the ninth grade, before I had the capacity to understand. Growing up, Gram was my best friend. We shared a double bed in my family’s four room cottage until I was nine. When she died suddenly, I didn’t know how to live the rest of my life without her. Gram had always been my rock, my stability, the one who guided me with her simple wisdom.
As adults our lives had been polar opposite, Gram’s conventional to the degree of eight years spent literally barefoot and pregnant. (No really, my grandfather intentionally didn’t buy her shoes so she couldn’t leave the house.) When he died, she was left with nothing but his gambling debt, raising their four girls in poverty. I was a gay, career driven, independent decision maker, earning my own money so my livelihood would never be dependent on someone else. When I met my partner Kim, she admitted that she had always wanted children, but I was determined not to relive Gram’s life.
While sitting on the floor piecing together broken fragments of my family’s history, I remembered how Gram taught me how to achieve a harmonious life by turning strife into satisfaction, always maintaining irrefutable faith when hope seemed to be slipping away. Childhood memories resurfaced as I camped out in her bedroom, embracing the powerful influence her gentle and supportive guidance had on the woman I am today. Suddenly aware that I had spent my adult life avoiding becoming a ‘traditional’ woman I had a change of heart and acknowledged the huge impact Gram had on my character. Recognizing that child rearing is a ritual of passing on sacred traditions and developing moral values that can bring good into the world, it dawned on me that a woman like me can have both a career and a family. Finally, I set down my fears of raising a child in a lesbian relationship, realizing that love and support are what creates happy, healthy kids, not just the stereotypical nuclear family. Passing Gram’s spirit onto my child was a way to braid each generation together from lifetime to lifetime.
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Any books that take me out of hectic working Mom life.