How T-Pain helped me with my first encounter with grief and loss for thirteen years.
Today marks fifteen years since my paternal grandmother’s death. It was the first major loss in my life, and like many forms of grief it was coupled with an epiphany that revealed the very existence of my own mortality.
Grandma Olivia was a powerhouse.
The energy and drive I have to do everything I’ve thrown myself into now is because of what I saw in her. Between managing her hotel (Oak Royal) in Tema, running a store in Makola, being a goodwill ambassador for the Hotel, Catering, Institutional, Management Association (HCIMA, now Institute of Hospitality) for Sub-Saharan Africa, Catering Manager for Unilever factories, and of course being the daughter and Princess to the Queenmother of Kukurantumi, she still did everything in her power to make time for my sister and I. Writing this now I actually cannot ei, an actual boss babe.
No one could tell her she didn’t know who she was or wasn’t capable of achieving her goals, and that’s something I’ve always kept with me. Anyone who knows me knows that me and my purpose? We’re joined at the hip.
I at least find solace in the fact that she witnessed and supported my first “business venture” at the age of 7. She took everything I said so seriously and I felt seen even then. If you’re reading this and you attended any of the “Smart Steps Club” meetings at my grandmother’s hotel, you’re a real one.
I kept that club running for about two years I think, with all expenses covered by her. I was actually at a Smart Steps Club meeting at the exact moment of her passing, setting off fireworks with my friends (in the middle of the day?!). It still eats me up that I was doing “knock out” at the time she took her last breath.
I was 9 when she passed, so I was old enough to understand the finality of death, but not how to process my emotions. This year has been the first time I’ve actively confronted the gravity of her loss. Through learning more about myself and my own mission in life, I quickly discovered that they seamlessly aligned with hers.
It is so frustrating to not have access to someone who could help you understand your own essence.
The realisation that I can’t even remember the simple things like how she spoke and interacted with me is so painful. Reaching that stage of grief where holding on to memories isn’t even an option is inexplicable.
Between the day she passed and the funeral, I only remember crying three times. The first is when my mum broke the news to my sister and I. She told us, “Grandma has gone to God”. My sister Naki immediately reacted with uncontrollable tears, but I literally just sat there. For someone who cried for any given reason (literally ANY reason), my body just didn’t decide that tears should be my immediate reaction. I eventually cried a bit because I was upset by the state my mum and sister were in, but it also just felt like the thing that made the most sense to do at that moment.
The second was a couple of days after during lunchtime in primary school. It’s interesting because I still don’t think I was crying about her death in itself, but I was envious of the fact that my classmates hadn’t had a traumatic weekend. The unfairness of the situation was the trigger.
The final time was during the funeral, but once again I only cried because I was upset that my mum was crying. That’s three times then I’d cried, but the actual feeling of loss? It just wasn’t clicking.
I didn’t consciously cry about losing her until today. Now that I’m older I can loosely identify the traits I picked up from her, and that void I’ve had all these years? I recognise it now.
I had nightmares about my grandmother for two years straight after the funeral. The fear of ghosts and everything else attached to the concept of death overwhelmed my actual grief.
Now I’m finally seeing her for who she was, and in turn acknowledging her impact on my life.
Now, what does T-Pain have to do with any of this?
Anyone who knows me is very aware of my attachment to T-Pain. He’s such a big part of my identity, and I’ve never fully understood why myself until recently. Outside his undebatable talent, his music granted me a safety net back then that I’ve just held on to cope with the shift in my family dynamics.
I desperately needed a distraction from the nightmares I was having, and music was the best therapy. It was upsetting because I knew my grandma would never hurt me even in death, but as a child I allowed what I’d seen in movies to define my memory of her. I started to wipe them because I didn’t want to be scared of her, and now all I want to do is get them back.
Man, his music helped me so much. I always say music fuels me with what people are unwilling to give. It’s literally always there, where’s it going lmao?
My grandma passed away two years before T-Pain released Epiphany in 2007. The first Christmas after her death, my sister and I got our first iPods after months of begging and creating PowerPoints to outline the benefits of owning a “portable digital audio player”. This was also the last Christmas my sister and I received presents on Christmas Day under a Tree. Every Christmas after that was just a case of us specifically stating what we wanted and walking into a store to get it until presents eventually became a myth. I don’t blame my parents to be honest, it just got to a point where they couldn’t predict what we wanted, so the element of surprise just wasn’t there. I was very particular about the specs of whatever ‘gadget’ I liked at the time, so I’d rather just choose it myself.
The First Generation iPod Shuffle only had a capacity of 512MB, that’s roughly about 120 songs (Ewurade Nyame). I had no choice but to be very intentional about the the music I listened to, and my uncle used to burn CDs I would then sync to my iPod. Of course, I also spent an unnecessary amount of time scouring music on LimeWire.
I usually gave my uncle suggestions for the songs/albums to burn on CDs, but I never asked for Epiphany, and that album literally changed my life.
I do need to make one thing clear though.
Obviously, the rappa turnt sanga raving on about Crunk Juice Bombs and Oakley shades on “Buy U A Drank” wasn’t my focus then, and isn’t now either. Please be guided!
It’s funny when I think about the contrast between the Epiphany album and the actual death of my grandmother because x+y = yam?
So, my parents, sister and I used to listen to the Epiphany album in the car all the time because I hogged the CD player. Honestly, I just enjoyed any time I spent with my family that exhibited any level of normalcy and stability. The content of the music didn’t matter, it’s the connection I felt to my family when I listened to it that did. We were building the current house we’re living in then, and in my mind that drive from Tema to Accra to see the site was a road trip in itself. So listening to the album on the motorway? Pleasing to me.
If by some insane coincidence you’re reading this T-Pain. I don’t even know how to thank you for how you continue to carry me through this grief. Crazy scenes, but you did it all without even knowing, so thank you.
There’s actually a much longer version of this post that breaks down how T-Pain helped me deal with the next significant death in my life back in January 2009, but today I just want to honour my grandma and keep this dedicated to her.
I don’t know how or why, but I ended up breaking down over 70 T-Pain songs that define other pockets of my life but I’m tired sha. That sounds like a whole book.
I am missing my Grandma Olivia so much today, but I have absolutely no doubt that she’s proud of the woman I’m becoming.
Continue to inspire me from the heavens, I’m here for you.