Cordell

I’ve been reflecting a lot recently about life; the ups and downs, lefts, rights. The moments of complete sadness and joy, which can come at any moment. It’s crazy that life can hit you with so many surprises and in that moment, you have to make a choice; do you tackle it head on or do you let it overwhelm you?

Someone who’s close to me is going through a tough time with their grandfather. He’s having some health concerns, but he will pull through. It doesn’t make it any easier to see it happening in real time, but the family is keeping the faith. But talking to them about it made me reflect on my grandfather, Cordell Daniel.

Story Time

I didn’t know much about my grandfather and his background when I was a kid. He lived in Antigua and was a mechanic for most of his life. I’m sure he did some other things, but I couldn’t really tell you what. The only times I saw him were if I went down to Antigua for the summer, or he came up to America for a few weeks to spend time with us. But whenever my sister and I were around him in Antigua, he treated us like royalty.

We’d ride around in his car, which now that I think about it, was a beat up hoopty lol. But he was riding around in style, shades on and always wearing a cap. You couldn’t tell us that we weren’t living. He’d show us different parts of the island, take us to the beach, get us ice cream; you know, things that grandparents do. And I loved every moment because it wasn’t like we saw him often.

I was jealous of my friends who had direct access to their grandparents all the time because that’s what I wanted but couldn’t get. So, I had no choice but to accept those moments with him and I’m glad I did.

Whenever I spoke to my mom about him, she would be a little hesitant because their relationship wasn’t the best when she was younger. I won’t go into too much detail out of respect for my mom (love you), but needless to say she’s the reason why I’m big on forgiveness today. Seeing her accept the past things about her father she couldn’t change and decide to love him nonetheless was inspiring to see. And I think for my grandfather, Cordell, it hurt him a bit deep down.

I remember one moment when I was in my senior year in high school, he came to visit us. I was heading to the city to meet a few of my friends and me and him were home by ourselves. As I was getting ready to go, he stopped me and gave me $20 and said, ‘I love you son,’ which shocked the hell out of me. My grandfather wasn’t the most affectionate man in that way, so when he said that to me, I froze. But then, he started crying for no reason and that made me cry. I wanted to cancel all my plans and just sit there with him. I even asked him if he wanted me to stay and he told me no. My mom was coming home soon anyway, but part of me felt guilty for leaving him.

When I called her and told her what happened, my mom said something like he’s probably feeling bad about the things he’s done in the past and is trying to make up for it now. And now that I’m sitting here tearing up a bit and thinking about it, maybe he knew he was going to pass soon. This was in the summer of 2011.

Time Skip

Throughout my time at Lehigh, I couldn’t get down to Antigua as often as I wanted to because I was too busy with basketball. I went down in 2015 after I graduated and saw him, and he wasn’t the same. He was dealing with some health problems and was a lot slower than usual. He had a stroke and didn’t do the necessary things to help his recovery, although people were pushing him to do so.

We went down to Antigua again in 2016, and this is when I saw him alive for the last time. He was bed bound, couldn’t speak, and needed 24/7 care. Seeing him like this was shocking. How could things change so quickly from 2011, and then even over one year? It was so heartbreaking, but at the same time I was mad at him. Why did he allow himself to get that way? Was it pride? Did he feel like he didn’t deserve to live anymore because of what he done in his past?

To me, it seemed selfish. He still had people out there that loved him very much and wanted the best for him. And that’s what made it even worse for me was because I was one of those people. I was still craving conversations with him, and I couldn’t have those with him anymore. It hurt, a lot.

I left Antigua and went straight to Ireland from there. I was happy to start my journey in a new country but was also sad to knowing that it was the last time I was going to see him. Sure enough, it was.

March Madness

In March 2017, I was leaving a therapy session and was feeling rather good. I was walking past Saint Patrick’s Cathedral when I received a call from my mom. As soon as I picked up the phone, I already knew. She expressed that my grandfather had passed, peacefully. I cried right there. I didn’t care about the eyes on me; a person in my life had passed away.

I walked from there to the cross in Phoenix Park, which is at least an hour and a half. I’ll never forget that day because it started raining viciously, but I didn’t really care. Once I got to Phoenix Park, the tears turned into anger. Like I said, I was questioning if his lack of self-care was selfish or not. Was he running away from all he did because everyone was suddenly caring for him, and he felt like he didn’t deserve it? It’s quite possible, but I wish he was able to express that. I wish I was able to say “Gramps, please keep pushing because I need you. We all need you.” But I never got the chance.

After his funeral in Antigua, things got rougher for me and I spiralled into severe depression and anxiety, which I wrote about in some of my earliest blog posts years ago (please forgive my terrible writing if you decide to read up on it). It was a challenging time to navigate, but I pulled myself together with support from my family and made it through.

The Power of Spirits

I think one of the things we as humans may all experience is feeling the spirit of our loved ones that have passed around us. Whether you believe in God or not, I believe that’s truly something we all share. It’s something that I can firmly say I experienced this summer, more so than anything.

The first week I was coaching in Italy, I shared a video with my family of when I took the warmup for the first time. I was nervous but I remember that morning, I prayed and asked for the strength. Then, something came flooding into my spirit. A few days later I spoke to my mom. We were on the phone for about an hour, and she said she was proud of me. She also said that I looked like my grandfather.

I wasn’t surprised because I’ve heard it before. I thought it was because I was wearing shades and let my beard grow out a little more. Or maybe it’s the big lips that’s a trademark in our family, thanks to him. But something about the tone was different. Then she followed up and said, “He’s been with you this entire time.” And that’s when I knew whatever I had been feeling over the last few days was him pushing me. I expressed that to my mom, and she was let out a long ‘Wow.’ I’m very in tune with myself and my spirituality so to get that confirmation was incredible and I couldn’t stop smiling. I just thanked God.

So, thank you Gramps. Yes, you may have left the world physically, but your spirit still lives on. And I’m happy to know that you were with me as I embarked on this new endeavour. You’ve been pushing me and help guiding me because as I think about some of the stories I’ve heard about your past, we’re very similar.

When I look in the mirror and look at my features, I see you. Shades and a cap/durag have been my thing this summer, and I know that’s you. So, I’ll keep striving to be my best self and make you proud. I’ll love you forever.

I say all of that to say, cherish your loved ones because they can be gone in an instant. Life gives us a lot of unexpected situations and you never want to be in a circumstance where it’s too late to help. Encourage them, push them, talk to them, hold them; do whatever you must so they know they’re loved. All you can do is your best and I’m sure they’ll appreciate your efforts, nonetheless.

Happy Sunday y’all.

Peace and Blessings.

CB