My Angel on Earth: Part I
Kinsley, my sweet, big-cheeked goddaughter, was born six months ago. When my cousin Eryka told me she was pregnant, I was beyond excited. And when she later asked me to be her godmother, I teared up. I’ll always remember that moment. Unlike so many other moments in my life, I revisit this one with such clarity. She said that I would automatically have cousin/auntie privileges, but she wanted to give me a special title. It meant the world to me. Eryka is like my sister. I would get to pour into her little girl the way our mothers poured into us. The timing was also ideal. She shared this good news when I was in the midst of researching my mom’s cancer, grappling with her prognosis, and ensuring that she had the best medical team. They say knowledge is power, but it can also be devastating. The prospect of Kinsley’s arrival was the bright spot I needed.
I talked to Eryka almost everyday. She’d give me updates on Kinsley’s growth—from avocado to banana to other fruit sizes. I had no idea this is how doctors measured baby growth. I found myself buying the various fruits that Eryka mentioned and so rediscovered my love for kiwis. In retrospect, that might have been a little odd. Nonetheless, it was nice to fall into the levity of baby talk and fruits.
Eryka would light up when Kinsley kicked. She said that Kinsley was kicking so much that it was a sign she was going to be assertive. She was already ascribing traits to Kinsley’s personality. Although I could not relate and just thought that babies kick when they’re in the womb, I was eager to see what Kinsley’s actual personality traits would be. I envisioned us doing choreographed dance routines for the family, baking cookies, and going to Disneyland. These were some of my favorite things to do with my cousins. Actually, at the age of 31, these are still some of my favorite things to do with them. The whole family was excited to add Kinsley to the mix. Kinsley would be the start of the next generation of children—Grandma’s first great-grandchild.
The day I got the call that Eryka was going into labor, I screamed and jumped around in excitement. I kept yelling at my husband, “Kinsley’s coming! Kinsley’s coming! We’re going to be godparents.” Although I got this call five weeks before Kinsley’s due date, I wasn’t too concerned after doing a bit of research. I read that babies come premature all the time. With a little time in the NICU, the baby would be fine, I thought. I danced around my apartment and got ready to go to my parents’ house.
When Uncle Eric picked me up, I enthusiastically entered the car and said, “Are you excited to be a grandpa, old man? Kinsley is coming!” He gave me a hesitant nod and said, “I’m just praying it all works out.” I could feel his sadness in his speech and demeanor. Uncle Eric is the funny guy (or tries to be, at least). He’ll crack a joke even in the midst of hard times. Anytime he’d pick me up, he’d say, “Black Uber at your service. I’m Black and you have me driving you around, so this is Black Uber.” I know; so corny but endearing, nevertheless. Although things were already heavy because Mom was receiving hospice care at home, the weight of Uncle Eric’s pain felt more palpable that day. I thought to myself, This is not my Uncle Eric. Sierra, his youngest daughter and Eryka’s sister (so essentially my sister), called me while we were in the car to share in my excitement about Kinsley. We talked loudly and quickly with lots of laughter and OMGs in between. We just couldn’t wait to be aunties. Uncle Eric drove in silence.
When we arrived at the house that afternoon, Dad told me the doctors said that Mom had hours to live. I knew it was coming, but it was still hard to face reality—a reality in which Mom was no longer here. Ten minutes before that conversation, I was elated about my goddaughter. There I was again—trying to make sense of living in dichotomies: from levity to gravity, joy to pain, laughter to tears, and hope to fear. As Eryka was on her way to becoming a mother, I was losing mine. I had been grappling with this mix of emotions since Mom got sick. Although 2020 was a year where I experienced so much hardship, it was also the year I got engaged and married my best friend. Mixed emotions were becoming a way of life. I knew that the pain would come, so I decided to sit in my joy for a bit longer.