By: Amira Thompson
Date: Sep. 14, 2023
Photo by: monkeybusinessimages/Getty
The first time I watched Coco with my son, tears streamed down my face by the film’s conclusion. Not only is it a stunning movie, but the bond between Miguel and his great-grandmother resonated deeply with me. It’s a poignant reminder of what my son is missing out on with my grandma, who has been gone for years.
My grandmother passed away when I was just 15, meaning I’ve spent more time without her than with her. As a teenager, her absence didn’t weigh heavily on my mind. After her death, our relationship had been strained, making my grief feel more subdued. I remember attending her funeral, sitting with friends and laughing, until the moment my great-aunt, her twin sister, broke down in tears. That’s when I finally cried, but it was brief.
Motherhood has a way of triggering memories at unexpected times. A few summers ago, after relocating across the country, my son became obsessed with Hello Dolly, featuring Barbra Streisand. It’s an unusual choice for a three-year-old, but perhaps he picked it up from my own fondness while I was pregnant. Watching him sing and dance to it took me back to similar moments with my grandmother; old movie musicals were our shared passion.
Now that he’s a bit older, I find myself reflecting on my own childhood memories, many of which revolve around my grandma. We were incredibly close during my early years, and it’s heart-wrenching to think about how he’ll never share those same experiences with her. I can vividly imagine him joyriding in her wheelchair while she was in bed, or sitting on her lap as she zipped around the house. She would have undoubtedly kept a stash of Hershey’s Kisses just for him, knowing how much he loves them. I can picture them sitting together watching Jeopardy!, as she never missed an episode. They would likely stay up late binging shows on a Saturday night, just as we used to.
There are countless scenarios I can envision: her and her best friend strapping his booster seat into the car, taking him to local theater productions just like they did with me, or visiting our favorite diner that hasn’t changed in over 20 years. He might scrunch his nose at her eating habits, like liver and gefilte fish, but I can see him enjoying matzo spread with butter at Passover, a nod to her past.
Even though we live far from my family now, I know my grandma would have found a way to stay connected, probably insisting my mom show her how to video chat. She would have been a captivated audience for my son’s pretend YouTube shows, just as she once cheered me on during my performances. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t get to bond over her beloved soap operas, but I imagine they would enjoy watching The Price is Right and The Golden Girls together, albeit on Hulu now.
As I think about how close my son and my grandmother would have been, I can’t help but reflect on the relationship I missed out on with her. There are so many milestones she never got to witness. She missed my high school and college graduations, and I often wonder if she would have traveled to see my performances. Would she have been disappointed in my first relationship that didn’t last? How would our dynamic have shifted when I came out? I believe she would have taken pride in my writing career and shared those accomplishments with her friends.
It’s challenging to convey the depth of my love for my grandma to my son, especially since he’s still so young and unable to grasp the concept of someone he never met. I want him to know that she was truly special and that he would have adored her. I often think about the time we lost and how I took her presence for granted, thinking we’d have more moments together.
That’s why every time Miguel kneels beside Mama Coco and sings “Remember Me,” my heart shatters anew. My son isn’t able to form the same connection I had with my grandma. But perhaps, in some way, they’ve already met; it might explain his fondness for Hello Dolly.
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In Summary
Becoming a mother has deepened my longing for my grandmother, who would have formed a cherished bond with my son. Memories of our time together flood back, especially as my child ages and begins to create his own memories. It’s a bittersweet realization that while he will never know her, I hope to instill in him the love and admiration I have for her, reminding him of the beautiful connection that could have been.