Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Letricia Pearl Griffin Stevens (1941-2012)




To say that the past seven days had been an emotional roller coaster for the Stevens clan would be an understatement. I definitely wouldn't stretch the level of grief each family member experienced, in his or her own way, when accepting the realization of the rock that held the family in a tight grip, even at her most frail state, had expired from her physical shell and was called Home. Even now, typing this blog becomes a bit difficult to compose without memories flooding back to my memory bank.



That Easter weekend, I had a dreadful feeling during my weekend occupation as an orderfiller. Earlier that day, I called to check on my sister to see how she, her husband and her kids were doing. The tone of Sister Girl's voice alone indicated that Grandma's health was deteriorating. She had been suffering from cancer for some period of time, but NO one had any idea about the severity of her condition. Normally, Grandma would often confer to my sister or my mother about it - Sister Girl's a registered nurse and my mother will finish the nursing program in May - though she kept certain details to herself. Even as I saw her in the hospital, she fought it out to the bitter end. Mama Girl was just ravished the moment she got home, as if a piece of her own heart had torn apart, so all I could do was console her as best I could though I couldn't say anything to make the news any less painful.



I had such fond memories of Grandma, as does many of the Stevens family does. The primary quality that she displayed was her brutal honestly. She'd tell someone if she thought ill of him or her due to one's personality traits, vices, attitudes towards others, etc. She also had a sharp mouth for anything revolving around her family (or neighborhood gossip). I can hardly calculate the numerous conversations she and Mama Girl would have over the phone about someone serving time in prison or about one of my aunt's habits of not answering the phone when she was needed for family gatherings or holidays. Much of Grandma's backbone rubbed on my mother, I'm proud to say, because she acts similarly, with slightly lesser patience and more compassion, that is. *giggles* Her greatest quality was her love for all her grandchildren and great-grandchildren, although she pertained to the boys moreso than the girls. I appreciated her kind-hearted gesture when she would give me food when I was at college with little to no money and how she kept up with my nelly-tongued nephew during a family conversation. From the numerous meetings with the belt each grandchild received from her (one I managed to avoid, somehow, heh heh) to the humbly crafted feast she'd make on Thanksgiving and Christmas, she was such a spectacular human being.



I had the privilege, as did certain male members of the family, to be a paul bearer for Grandma's funeral service in her hometown of Cameron, which is twenty-five minutes from Temple to there. Typically, a funeral service would feature "friends" of the family coming up to comfort the family with remarks and stories of encouragement. Not in Trish Pearl's commencement to Heaven. Just as the Remarks portion of the service was completed, one of the right microphone stands near the choir tilted over and fell into the ground, providing some slight amusement. Mama Girl looked over to my neice and said, "Hey, that was Grandma (the kids refer to my mother as 'MiMa' and Trish Pearl 'Grandma') telling 'em folks to sit down and shut up, because they're telling a lie." Had I caught on with that sentiment, I would've peeved myself. Oh, even in death, Grandma knows how to make a scene. The family invited the pastor of our church, Macedonia Baptist Church, to offer words of comfort and he really put the nail on the head by referring to one of the most quoted verses from the Bible: "Jesus wept". Again, I recalled Grandma having us to say that particular phase to bless the food during dinnertime, followed by the comment of "No eat, no treat" if we didn't eat our meat and veggies. Personally, that verse was comforting in itself.



Upon accepting the passing of my grandmother, I was content to draw a quick portrait of her to commemorate her legacy she had left upon the Stevens family. It's not my best work, but being a woman of dignity and respect, I know she'd appreciate it.









"I love you, a bushel and a peck..."


I love you too, Grandma.