There were not too many life events that could have left my Grandmother stricken with grief, however, when my cousin Junior died, not even God could have consoled my Granny adequately. My Grandmother did not have favorites when it came to her grandchildren, but she loved each one with a special love according to their level of mischievousness.

Junior had the market cornered whenever it came to being mischievous. He always managed to make Granny laugh, even when she was in the most cantankerous of moods. Granny had a special place for him in her heart. He was very protective and extraordinarily caring towards her and Grandpa. Often times reminding her, “Granny don’t forget to put the padlock on the gate” or “Granny don’t come home too late from church, too many “koo-koo” people out there!”

Little did Granny or anyone know, that his fragile life would have been snuffed away by a drunk, careless driver. It was the beginning of a new school year, It was Junior’s first year as a High School student. He had saved up all Summer to buy a ten speed bike and had finally attained his goal of purchasing one. Although, my Granny was terribly against the idea, Junior made light of the situation and insisted that she needn’t worry, because he was a “boss” acrobat. He would say, “Granny, it’s cool runnings, no need to worry, remember I’m your rough and tough, judo loving grandson.”

A few days after Junior had won the family debate, and purchased his bike, he was struck down by an enebreated driver. He died instantly, the bike that he had so diligently saved for, had become the instrument that lead him to his death.

My Granny recalled the tragic day, as if her life would never be the same. I was about six years old at the time , but I remembered the details as if it were yesterday. After all, Junior was like a brother to me. Granny and I sat talking in the parlor one day with remorse and a need for understanding.

“Granny, do you remember the day Junior died?”

“Of course, you know Mags, that day I didn’t feel right at all, I just felt a heaviness and sadness come over me. I just couldn’t explain it. When his mother call and tell me the news, I was shocked it was him, but I was expecting some gloomy news.”

“Granny I was in time-out that afternoon, but I remember when he called out to everyone, “Soon come back!” That was the last time we saw him alive. I prayed all the way to the morgue. We even had a game in school that taught us to cross our fingers and wish. It was supposed to make everything better ; I crossed my fingers and my toes all the way. Hoping it would save him, but all my efforts were futile.”

“Yes, Magsie, I know……I couldn’t help but notice the very confused look on your countenance. I kept asking the Undertakers not to cover him up,,,,,I had faith that he would come back to life. A resurrection like Lazarus. Only God knows why he didn’t spare his life, perhaps he saw that the road was rugged?”

Granny reflected with sadness and grief, even after all these years I had never seen my Grandmother so shaken up or emotive about any other happening. Maybe it was because he was only fourteen years old and had such promise. I had lost my sparring buddy and Granny had lost a grandchild.

It was the first time that I ever heard my Granny question the Almighty’s decision. Granny lacked religious words of comfort, because she was trying to comprehend the turn of events.

She lamented, “Grandchildren are supposed to outlive their grandparents. I have to believe that only the good die young. He was an angel.”

I nodded in agreement with my Granny, because even at six years old, I felt I had lost my alter ego. I was a tom-boy growing up, and Junior and I shared all sorts of sporting activities. We practiced judo together and he would show me how to be “rough and rugged”. We had the “code of the cool“, for a six year old that meant everything.

For the first time in my life, I experienced my Grandmother feeling helpless. The only strength she found was praying to God, asking him to spare the roads from drunk and distracted drivers. She prayed that Law Enforcement would deter these careless drivers from taking anymore lives.

When someone so young dies tragically, everyone cries for retribution, however, the fact of the matter is, revenge does not bring the person back. Our family suffered a tragic loss the day Junior died, but we knew that orchestrating a witch hunt would not quench our sorrow.

However, his death taught us that God shows us wisdom even in tragedy. My Grandmother lost a grandchild, but in the midst of her grief she managed to envision God’s plan for Junior to experience a life in eternal bliss. These thoughts comforted her until her dying day.

I know wherever Granny is, she is jubilant, because she has been reunited with her beloved Junior.

In Loving Memory of MJM.