Two tears in a bucket, f!ck it...

The ironic and inevitable consequences of existence.

A tribute to my grandmother, Shirley Sims Jefferson.

The proverb "two tears in a bucket, bucket f!ck it" suddenly occurred to me a few days ago. It’s a saying I’m way to familiar with. It was spoken to me throughout my childhood. I consider the saying to be a scripture in the unwritten book called Life.

Recently, I experienced a loss that is slowly changing my outlook on life and what it means to live. The loss was my dear grandma, Shirley Sims Jefferson. "Baba" is what my brother and I called her. She left this realm and became one with the wind. Before her passing in December, earlier in the year, I felt a shift within myself. A small shift, but a shift nonetheless. Maybe my frontal lobe is in the process of gearing up for when I hit 25. I’m not sure, but something is different. Since feeling that shift and the passing of my grandma, my outlook on life has changed slowly but surely. I want to live life to the fullest. 

My grandmother was a grande dame. She traveled to all 50 states and 7 countries, worked in the tech industry, and assisted my grandpa at his famous record store in LA, “Jazz City Records." An advocate for unhoused children, she was a “Jill of all trades.” One of her sole reasons for moving to Atlanta was fueled by the love of her grandbabies, my brother and I, Shirley's grandbabies. Nobody messed with “Shirley grandbabies”. When I got older, I had the time to stay with her for a few months to keep her company, and it was the best time with her. Memories I will forever have with her. 

Her passing has left me with multiple emotions. Sadness. Anger. Confused. Bamboozled even. Sadness because she is no longer here to hug and kiss me. Angry and confused because she was so smart and resilient that I figured she would be here forever. Outsmart life at its own game. Bamboozled because I feel foolish for even thinking of the impossible. Even God’s son had his day. I sum all this up by saying we can't escape life's inevitable. Isn't it ironic that we’re put here to have these experiences but aren't able to experience them forever? 

My bucket is now full, ready to be emptied.

I miss you, Baba and I wrote this for you.