A Tribute To GoGo
You were the first GoGo I knew, so I called you “GoGo” like it was your name... so everybody else did too. It took me years to find out your actual name.
You took me into your home and loved me like I was yours long before we knew how to verbally communicate with each other. You took Lifa into your home and loved him before I did. I met him in your home, and he became my son as I became your daughter.
Your daughters became my sisters. My sister was welcomed like a daughter. You always want to see pictures of my mom and called her your sister. You would have loved my NaNa.
You made me bake you cakes all the time and me eat parts of animals I didn’t know could be eaten. You let me teach your grandsons how to run a small business in your backyard.
You showed me the most selfless, joyful love I’d ever seen. It was absolutely ridiculous. I taught you about Taco Tuesdays and how to dance to the Black-Eyed Peas. That was also ridiculous.
You had never celebrated a birthday before, so when I threw you a 60th birthday party, we had it on the wrong day because you didn’t remember what date you were born on.
When I got my first car in Africa, I had to drive it straight to your house to show you I quickly realized we had just gotten our first car. It was the same with my new boyfriend, Chris.
I thought I was coming to help those without families, Instead, I got a family. I thought I was coming to help the impoverished. Instead you helped me to live abundantly.
I just found out you are gone.
I can’t stop thinking about your HUGE smile, open-mouth kisses, and the way you cupped my face every time you saw me. I still laugh at the times I was driving up the hill to visit you and saw you running like a mountain goat with a grandbaby tied to your back and a bundle of firewood on your head.
You danced with me at my wedding, and now I can only imagine the party you’re stirring up in heaven. I hope you’re showing my baby girl and my NaNa your killer dance moves. If heaven could get any happier, it would with you there.
I’ll cry for you tonight. I’ll text your daughters and cling to memories. I’ll give extra thanks for my oldest son. Without your home, hospitality, and your safe, big, deep, wide and unselfish love - we would not be a family.
I love you, Gogo. You have left a legacy behind. I bet you’re enjoying your great reward!
