Cute Grandma

Hello steemit community welcome to the month of September I bring good tidings
My Grandmother

When people talk about their childhood, one figure that often stands out is the grandmother. For me that memory is not vague it’s sharp, sweet, and full of warmth. My grandmother was not just someone I visited occasionally she was an anchor, a quiet force, and a safe space all in one. To me she embodied the kind of love that doesn’t ask for anything in return, the type of love that sees itself around you in silence and still manages to be louder than words.

She had a way of making me feel seen, and for a child, that is priceless. Whenever I visited her, her face would light up as if I was the best gift the day could bring. She never treated me as just another grandchild among many. She had this gift of making me feel like the grandchild. The bond we shared was personal, and it’s something that still warms me when I think back.

One of the sweetest things about her was the special name she gave me: “Nnamsenkan,” which means “I do what I can.” That name carried weight because she didn’t call me by it casually. She said it in moments that mattered sometimes when I tried to help with something bigger than me, sometimes when I showed effort, and sometimes when she just wanted to affirm me. It was her way of telling me, “I see you, I value what you try to do, even if it looks small.” Up till today, whenever I remember that name, I smile. I carry it from childhood I remember my strength and stop where I could not it didn't mean I was weak but it mean I cannot do pass my strength It reminds me that effort matters, even if it’s not perfect.

Grandmothers are known for their wisdom, and mine was no exception. The most iconic phrase she ever said to me was: “A child who listens will always go far.” At the time, I didn’t fully understand its depth. To me, it sounded like one of those ordinary sayings adults repeated just to keep children in line. But as I grew older, I began to see the truth hidden in it. Life constantly brings us advice, warnings, and guidance, but not everyone listens. My grandmother believed that obedience and humility to learn were keys that unlocked greater doors. And even now, when I’m tempted to ignore wise counsel, her words come back to me as a quiet reminder.

Beyond her words, she expressed herself most powerfully through food. If you ever tasted my grandmother’s cooking, you would know it wasn’t just food it was memory, comfort, and joy in one plate. Her palm oil stew was legendary in our family. The smell alone could call you from a distance. I remember when she would invite I and my siblings over whenever she prepared the stew because of how we loved it. It wasn’t only the flavor but also the love she poured into it. Somehow, she made ordinary ingredients taste extraordinary her white soup wasn't left out although she loved using fish that was getting spoiled the smell of the fish gave the soup a special taste

The funny part is, none of us has been able to fully inherit her seasoning. My mother tries, I’ve even attempted it, and some of my cousins have made their own versions, but it’s never exactly the same. There’s always something missing. Maybe it was her patience while cooking, maybe the way she measured ingredients with her eyes instead of spoons, or maybe it was simply her presence that made everything taste different. I like to believe it was the last one her love was the seasoning, and that can’t be passed down in recipes.

Her kitchen wasn’t the only place she taught me lessons. She taught through her life itself. She was never loud, never quick to anger, but her quiet strength could be felt. She had a way of calming storms just with her words, and she lived in a manner that showed dignity without needing to display it. I learned from her that true strength isn’t in noise but in presence.

Even though she is late, her presence still lingers in my life. Sometimes, when I sit quietly, I can almost hear her calling me “Nnamsenkan” again, with that affectionate smile on her face. Other times, the aroma of palm oil stew from someone else’s kitchen will pull me right back into her embrace, reminding me of those simple, happy days.

Her absence has left a gap that nothing else can fill, but her influence continues to guide me. Her words“A child who listens will always go far”still echo like a compass in my heart. And her love, though no longer physical, remains alive in my memories, shaping the way I see life and the way I treat people.

Grandmothers are not forever, but the love they leave behind is. My grandmother may be gone, but she lives on in me, in every little lesson, in every memory, and in every smile that her thoughts bring. Truly, her life was a blessing, and her memory will forever be my treasure.

Inviting @kwinberry @ukpono @imohmitch