Celebrating Legacy: Remembering My Great-Grandmother, Alberta “Grandma” Turnipseed
Today, my maternal great-grandmother, Alberta Turnipseed, would have celebrated her 106th birthday.
In our family, she was lovingly known simply as Grandma.
Although I wasn't yet ten years old when she passed away, her memory has never left me.
When I think of her, I see a fair-skinned woman with a warm smile and an unforgettable laugh. I remember the very thin cigarettes she smoked, the wonderful meals she prepared, and the pride she took in her home. Everything was always neat, clean, and cared for. I can still picture the beautiful copper pots and pans hanging on her kitchen walls and smile when I think about her refrigerator with the freezer on the bottom—a style that has made its way back into our homes today.
I also remember my grandmother driving Grandma to get her hair curled every two weeks. I remember that routine and the excitement of going to pick her up when she was finished.
And, of course, I remember what came next.
Church's Chicken.
Those simple moments became some of my sweetest memories. And somewhere between those trips, family, and good food, my love of fried okra was born.
Even now, I can smile when I think about it. Sometimes the smallest memories stay with us the longest. A car ride. A hairstyle. Picking someone up. Sharing a meal.
Those moments may have seemed ordinary at the time, but they became pieces of my childhood that I still carry with me today.
She was a maid by profession, but she was so much more than her job. She was a mother, a sister, a wife, and a woman who created a home filled with love, family, and memories.
Some of my favorite memories are of the holidays. Her sisters would travel to Detroit, filling her home with laughter, conversation, and enough food to feed everyone. The kitchen became the heart of the house, and every meal was prepared with love.
Looking back now, I realize those moments were about more than food. They were about family, tradition, connection, and belonging.
My great-grandmother was originally from Memphis, Tennessee. She died from lung cancer, and from the perspective of a child, it all seemed to happen so quickly. I wasn't old enough to fully understand what was happening. I only knew that someone I loved was gone.
But even after all these years, I can still remember her smile.
I can still remember her laugh.
I can still remember her home.
And I still remember the feeling of being with her.
She is truly missed.
Now, as an adult—and as someone who walks alongside families at the end of life as a death doula—I understand those memories differently. I recognize the gift of remembering. I understand that the people we love never truly disappear as long as we continue to speak their names, tell their stories, and pass their legacy to the next generation.
So today, on what would have been her 106th birthday, I choose to celebrate Alberta.
I will tell my boys about the woman they never had the chance to meet. I'll show them her picture. I'll tell them about her beautiful smile, her welcoming home, her laughter, and the love she poured into her family.
I'll tell them about the woman who came from Memphis, Tennessee, built a life, raised a family, welcomed loved ones into her home, and created memories that have lasted for generations.
I'll help them understand that they come from strong, hardworking women whose lives helped shape our own.
Because they are her legacy.
And legacy isn't measured only by the years we live.
Legacy lives in the stories we tell.
It lives in family traditions.
It lives in recipes passed down through generations.
It lives in laughter remembered decades later.
It lives in the memories we carry in our hearts.
It lives in the little things—a favorite meal, a family tradition, a familiar laugh, or even a love of fried okra passed down through generations.
And it lives in the children and grandchildren who carry our names, our values, and our love into the future.
Today, I remember my great-grandmother with love, gratitude, and a heart full of memories.
Happy Heavenly 106th Birthday, Grandma.
You are truly missed.
Your life mattered.
Your love endures.
Your memory lives on.
And your legacy continues through all of us—especially through my boys, who are part of the beautiful legacy you began.
Because life is a gift.
And every day we are given the opportunity to leave a little more love behind.