Matriarch

Honoring the Life and Legacy of Iris Elveda Gordon

A vintage photo of my Great Grandma, Iris.

A couple weeks ago, I reunited with my extended family to say goodbye to our matriarch, the woman who made all of our existences possible, Iris Elveda Gordon. She held many a title in our family, but to me she was Great Grandma. My great grandmother lived to see four generations span from her; she gave birth to fourteen children, nine of whom survived and did their part to maintain the vastness of our family. My Great Grandma is survived by eight children, thirty-two grandchildren, forty-one great grandchildren, and five great-great-grandchildren.

It is surreal to know that Great Grandma no longer exists in this world. She was a constant in our lives, an inevitability - it felt like Great Grandma would always be here. Her living to 93 years old, almost a century, aided in that feeling that she’d be here forever.

***

There is this lie that my generation perpetuates, that we don’t owe anyone anything, but we owe our elders everything. More than once over the past couple of years, I have realized that my freedom was only partially paid for by me. Out of four generations - my great grandma, grandma, mother, and I - I am the freest. I am able to live my life as I please, and that’s possible because of the sacrifices that were made by the women that arrived here before me.

Technically, I am a first generation American on my mother’s side of the family, I say technically because my mother immigrated to this country at a young age and was raised here. My Grams bought her over along with my aunt and late grandfather, but it was Great Grandma who was responsible for getting my Grams here in the first place. Great Grandma first immigrated to the Bahamas from Jamaica, before coming to the U.S.; when she got to America she went to work getting all of her adult children over here too.

Before Great Grandma’s passing, it dawned on me that I never actually knew what she did for work. I learned from my mother that Great Grandma was a home health aide, which was a common job for Jamaican immigrants when she came to the U.S. To have a career taking care of others is hard, honest work. Great Grandma eventually made enough money to buy a house in Flatbush, Brooklyn that housed several generations of our family for many years. When she sold that house, she financially assisted many of her children and grandchildren with the money. I imagine that this was all supposed to culminate in her returning home to Jamaica, to die in the place she was born. She did not get that, but she did get to leave this life surrounded by the love of all the people that are in this world because of her.

I have only been to Jamaica once, it was a few years ago for a friend’s wedding. On one hand I was excited to visit my Mother’s Land, on the other I wished that moment had been happening with my own family. I stayed a few days after the wedding, and some friends and I spent one of them at a waterfall. On the shuttle ride over I observed all the half built houses, apparently it’s common for homes to get paid for and built over time in Jamaica, and surveyed the passerby. I started to get curious on what my life would’ve been like had my family never left Jamaica. Would I have been one of the many workers greeting American’s at the resort we were frequenting? Would I have been living in a half built house? The reality is that I wouldn’t have been born because my father is American lol, but you get the point. In many ways, I’ve lived a very privileged life that my now ancestor, Great Grandma, helped pave the way for.

My Great Grandma almost never smiled, as evidenced by all of the photos we collected for the funeral pamphlets. She had a tendency to favor the boys in our family, and I won’t pretend like I was one of her favorite people, but she did smile at me once. I remember it because it was such a landmark moment in my life. I was down South on a visit home from college, and Great Grandma told me she had heard about what I was up to; she told me that she was proud of me, and then she SMILED at me, I will never forget it. I was so excited I told my mom about it.

I was privileged enough to get to say goodbye to Great Grandma before she passed; my Grams had been taking care of her and she told the family when she knew Great Grandma didn’t have much time left. I traveled down to Georgia with my mother to support my Grams and say goodbye to Great Grandma. It was the only time in my life that I got to say goodbye to someone, knowing I’d never see them again. Saying goodbye to Great Grandma again, at her funeral, I could feel that the world had changed. The world just won’t be the same without Iris, but I could feel myself taking on a piece of her energy after she departed. I feel older now, stronger, and more responsible for the wellbeing of my family. I have to step up now and live my life knowing that it isn’t just for me; I am doing my part to pave the way for the next generation of women in our family to be freer, smarter, richer, and more empowered to live a life that’s authentic to them.

***

The Iris plant that popped up in my brother’s yard.

I am keenly aware of the fact that though our family has said goodbye to Great Grandma, we will soon say hello to my soon to be born nephew, Rykell. Life is so cyclical that way, one in one out. I arrived here shortly after the passing of my paternal great grandmother and Rykell will arrive in a similar fashion. I received a blessing from my paternal great grandmother before my arrival, and Rykell got one too. Shortly after Great Grandma’s passing irises started blooming in my brother’s yard, ones he’d never planted, and they were blooming much earlier in the season than they’re supposed to. We all know Iris Elveda Gordon was responsible - an icon, in life and in death.

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