As a kid, I can remember visiting my maternal grandmother every Sunday. It was the Lord’s day, yes, but also the day that all of my aunts, uncles and cousins came together to celebrate being a family. We would all pack into my grandmother’s house that raised five of her six six children, all of her grandchildren and several of her great-grandchildren. She would cook for us the recipes of our lineage, Southern-style soul food specifically from Pittsburg, Texas. We’d scrape our plates and go for seconds, being sure to save room for her cakes so good that they put my mom through nursing school. All of this came to a halt the day that she started to slow down and within a few years decided to accept my mom’s offer of moving into our home. Now, four generations of my family cohabitate and I’m better for it.
My Husband, Daughter And I Moved In A Year After Granny Did
I was living in New York during the days leading up to my grandmother moving into my childhood home. My mother was also in New York as I’d asked her to be by my side since doctors determined I’d be going into labor at only 24 weeks. After spending nearly a month with me, getting to know my husband (then-boyfriend), she returned home to move my grandmother in. Little did we know, I’d be moving in a year later with my family as well. It was a decision that my husband and I made with our daughter in mind. We wanted to be closer to family, have a built-in support system and afford her the opportunity to live in a home with both her grandmother and great-grandmother. We’d get the brand new start we needed while getting to save some money for our next move.
None of these perks compared to the relationships that my mom and granny would be able to build with my daughter now that we were all under one roof.
A Family Decision: But What Did I Stand to Gain?
Although, when I first began ruminating about the decision, I knew that it’d be best for my husband and daughter. I wasn’t sure however that there would be much in it for me. I knew that being home and close to family and friends would be nice, but I wasn’t ready to return to California especially after I’d only been building a life for myself in New York for three years. I’d found work in New York as a freelance makeup artist and was beginning to model while working full-time as a writer-producer and getting to know the love of my life. We left two years short of the plan I set for myself and still, although what felt like right on time for my family. In the days leading up to our move, I thanked New York for raising me a bit more and giving me so much.
We packed as much of our life as possible into four suitcases, hopped on a six-hour flight and landed in Los Angeles. We moved into my childhood home, now a party of 7: my dad, mom, granny, myself, my husband, our daughter and the family dog, Bruno. My heart was still in New York. I was missing the bodegas, the trains, but understood that living in a house, with family, minutes from the beach wasn’t a bad trade-off.
Embracing Family Time: My Daughter’s Life Among Three Generations
I also now had the access I craved during my childhood: to my granny and her recipes. To date, we’ve made four cakes and according to granny, there’s much more in store. She’s also slowly gotten to know the tiny being who’d just turned my world upside down: her Scorpio sister. In the ways that they’ve made each other smile, the nicknames and memories that they’ve developed, the love that they’ve established, between my granny, mom and daughter, I know we did what was best for my family all the way around. I’m better for accepting the detour in my journey, for prioritizing family and legacy over anything else and we’re all still here. The wisdom and compassion that flows in our home have made their impact and continue to.
What a blessing it is to witness and participate in four generations of my family cohabitating. I’m grateful and better for it – having made the decision to blend our home and our lives.
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