My Journey, Inspired by Gigi
Ever since I found out my grandma—my Gigi—had lung cancer, my life was never the same. It was the summer after 4th grade when everything changed. One day I was just a kid, running around and not thinking much about the world, and the next, I was learning what it meant to watch someone you love slowly slip away.
Gigi wasn’t just my grandma—she was my best friend. She was known in our family as the “Bling Queen” because everything she owned sparkled. Her bedazzled hot glue gun was basically her magic wand, transforming everything she touched with glitter, gems, and love. She made everything fun, even the little things. And she made me laugh harder than anyone ever could.
Her favorite song was “24K Magic” by Bruno Mars, which still makes me cry to this day—even though it’s the furthest thing from a sad song. I think that’s what makes it hurt the most. It reminds me of how bright and joyful she was, even when her body was breaking down.
By the time I reached 6th grade, Gigi’s cancer had spread—tumors along her spine, then brain cancer, then pancreatic cancer. It was a cruel, fast-moving storm. But somehow, through it all, she stayed the most beautiful, funny, and kind person I’ve ever known. She used to be a nurse, taking care of the elderly with a heart full of compassion. Before that, she was a teacher. She just loved helping others. And she did it so effortlessly.
When she passed away, I got the call during my 7th grade English class. I remember my teacher walking me down the hall. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. My other grandma picked me up with my little brother, and we drove to Gigi’s house in China Spring. The second I saw my dad’s face, I knew. He opened the car door, eyes red and puffy, and reached for me. I screamed. I cried. I punched the air, desperate for it not to be real.
Inside, I was greeted by my mom and our pastor. They asked if I wanted to say goodbye. I was terrified. I sat in her room for two hours, staring at the wall, feeling frozen in time. When I finally gathered the courage, I kissed her goodbye. Then I walked out onto the grass, dropped to my knees, and begged God to bring her back. But in my heart, I knew she was already gone.
Losing Gigi shattered me—but it also shaped me.
She inspired me to go to college, just like she did. She inspired me to become a teacher, just like she was. Her students still tell stories about her, about how much she meant to them. That kind of impact is rare. And I want to be that kind of person for someone else.
Cancer took my Gigi, but it didn’t take what she gave me—her spirit, her strength, her sense of humor, her love. I carry all of that with me. I want to be brave like her, and I want to take the leap she once took. College isn’t just a goal—it’s a promise I made to myself and to her. I want to help others. I want to make students feel seen and safe. I want to be a teacher who changes lives.
That’s what I hope to accomplish. Not just a degree, but a legacy—one that began with the Bling Queen and will live on through me.