She Get it from Her Ga-Ga… What it Means to be Loved Ferociously
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
― Maya Angelou
While I can’t remember every encouraging word my maternal grandmother said, how she made me feel has taken up permanent residence in my spirit and radiates outward in how I show up today. I was just shy of thirteen when my grandmother, Ga-Ga, transitioned on Christmas Day as a result of ovarian cancer. I was four when she became my legal guardian, my second mother, after my birth mother lost her battle to breast cancer at 23 years old. As tragic as this reads, and it was, my childhood photos display a happy, vibrant, and confident little girl. Despite losing her mother, they reflect that she felt loved immensely.
When my mother had me at 19, it was only natural that her mother would want to nurture the both of us. I imagined that as someone who was a teen mom herself, that Ga-Ga could sense when my mother was tired or overwhelmed. I suspect supporting her daughter wasn’t her only intention, Ga-ga also enjoyed caring for me. She had two other grandchildren, but they lived seven states away, and they were boys. I was the first girl, and I lived five minutes away, she got to see me every day. I had her all to myself until my sister and other cousins were born. From the stories I’ve been told, that is how I wanted it. I cried for her and to stay with her.
The fleeting time I had with Ga-ga was during my most formative years. They filled were tight hugs and words of affirmation for every paper I brought home. They were her being the audience and concession stand worker for the dance shows I put on in her living room and back yard. They were sharing a bed with her when the house got crowded with her other children, grandchildren, and out-of-town visitors. They were deep belly laughs and hearty meals. They were her coming to my defense whenever I was being a brat, which admittedly I was. Everything I did was amazing to her. With my Ga-Ga, I felt safe, seen, and valued.
That feeling faded occassionally after she passed away, and I had to navigate grief as a teenager, on major holidays, and whilst becoming a teen mom myself. Still, when I needed it most, Ga-Ga’s affirming love came to me like a Spidey-sense, reminding me of my worth. When I decided I had my share of toxicity in romantic and platonic relationships, when someone violated my boundaries one too many times, or told me I couldn’t do it, her love for me manifested as radical self-love and preservation, guiding me. To this day, it still does. As I’ve grown, the seed she planted has blossomed. It has remained a driving force for all of my work, from youth worker, to educator, professor, and life coach. My wish is for other people to feel capable, significant… worthy; for those feelings to become so deeply embedded in their core, that nothing, no one, can diminish it.
While there is nothing I wouldn’t give to cuddle up with her one more time, or to hear her voice, I’m thankful for the time I had with her, and even more thankful for the way she loved me so much, that more than 30 years later, it still warms my being and lights my fire. She is why I am unshakeable. I am Dr. Latoya Bosworth, the daughter of Brenda, the granddaughter of Rosa Lee, the great-granddaughter of Inez, and the great-great granddaughter of Rosa, and a force to be reckoned with.
