My Beloved…

My Great Grandmother

The fondest memories of my great grandmother were when I was in Guyana. I lived with her until I was about 3 years-old. She cared for me, loved me, and provided a stable home for me while my young parents worked to bring me to America. Then she came from London to live with us when my sister was born; I was seven. Her baked-goods of pineapple and coconut tarts warmed my belly almost every week when I arrived home from school. She was a staple that I took for granted; a little bit of Guyana was placed in our new American home. I learned how to bake from her; watched her favorite soap operas with her- One Life to Live and General Hospital; and I first learned about the bible from her. Every Sunday I would try to  squirm away from having to read the bible stories she was trying to teach me. Even though I loathed it at that time, it still resonates as one of our most tender moments.

I was never able to have that bond with my grandmother, who was her daughter, because she died from breast cancer when I was five. She was the only maternal grand parent I had to cling to; so when the call came this week that she had passed, I was crushed. She was known as “Mums;” a caretaker to many. That was her knack, to care for children. Mums traveled far and wide to care for her extended family’s children.  Her benevolent spirit always filled every home she entered. Unfortunately, when I was 16, Mums broke her hip and was forced to go live with her only existing daughter to be cared for.

Our bond was something special because I was her first great-granddaughter. I was a rebel against her old school ways, but I was also her little friend. I kept her company most of the time because my parents were hard-working immigrants. She, too, was in a foreign place with not many friends; separated from her sisters, brothers, and friends who were scattered throughout America, Guyana, and England. However, I was her little helper in the kitchen and  her t.v. companion. I still remember her powdery smelling perfume and her slightly grayish-colored eyes. As I reflect back, she was more important than I realized. She was my mom when my mom was working late; my protector and one of the loves of my life. I will miss her, but I know she lived a good life. Everyone hoped she would make it to her 100th birthday on December 25th, but I guess God couldn’t wait to have one of his angels back. Love you, Pearl “Mums” Luthers.


6 thoughts on “My Beloved…

  1. I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmom. I have not talked to your mom yet but please know that my prayers and out to your family during this difficult time.

  2. Pingback: 2010 in review « Sonjeproductions's Blog

  3. What a great post. I’m very sorry to hear about your loss. Her spirit and essence resonate with your words. She sounds like a wonderful woman who touched many souls.

    This post really hits me because it reminds me of the relationship I had with my grandmother, Elise Berlack. We were very close. When I was young, I was her t.v. companion (New York Yankees, an old soap opera called “Somerset,” her favorite, Little House on the Prairie, etc), and little taste tester for her many recipes. She was the first to teach me about unconditional love.

    I can imagine the mixture of emotions you’re feeling. But know that she is blessed and resting from a job well done.

    Thank you for sharing your relationship with “Mums” with us. My prayers are with her and Grandma tonight.

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