CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grand
Bio
I am a dedicated writer and advocate for change, I inspire others who have walked in my shoes to embrace their voices.
Stories (6/0)
Bound for Atlanta. Content Warning.
In the warm embrace of the Deep South, not far from the bustling life of Atlanta, there was a home where love and discipline intertwined like the branches of an old oak tree. This is the story of a grandmother, a beacon of resilience and strength, whose roots ran deep into the soil of hard work and honesty.She was a woman who, at the tender age of 18, boarded a train bound for Atlanta, leaving behind the shadows of an abusive home in North Carolina. With nothing but hope in her pocket and determination in her stride, she sought a brighter future. In Atlanta, she donned the white cap of a nurse, but soon realized that her heart yearned for a different path. It was there she met a man, a kindred spirit, and together they built a family of two sons and two daughters, one of whom would become a mother herself. The grandmother, a paragon of virtue, instilled in her grandchildren the values that had guided her own journey. She taught them that life’s treasures are earned, not given, and that saving for tomorrow is as important as living for today. She was the epitome of perfection in their eyes, a guiding star in the vast sky of life.When her daughter faced the trials of early motherhood, the grandmother stood firm, a pillar of unwavering support. “If you’ve brought children into this world,” she’d say, “you’ll work to provide for them.” And so, the mother pursued her education, her children’s laughter filling the grandmother’s home.Life in their home was simple yet full of warmth. Fridays were a celebration, with homemade pizzas that brought the taste of the outside world into their hearts. On other days, the kitchen was alive with the aroma of country cooking — cat head biscuits, grits, and cream of wheat. The rule was clear: you ate what was cooked, or you didn’t eat at all.The lake was their playground, where fear was unknown, for the brother was the fiercest protector in the neighborhood. He was the ringleader, and his sibling, the faithful accomplice, carrying out the mischievous plans that only children can devise.This tale is a testament to a bygone era, a time when discipline shaped character and outdoor play was the norm. It’s a story of gratitude for a grandmother who pushed her grandchildren to reach for the stars and instilled in them the discipline now so rare in the world. In a time when screens dominate and patience is scarce, the lessons of the grandmother and the mother stand as a reminder of the enduring power of love and discipline. And so, the legacy of the grandmother lives on, not just in memories, but in the very fabric of her family’s being, woven through generations with threads of perseverance, integrity, and the wisdom of a life well-lived Crystal’s grandmama had a remarkable fondness for flowers, particularly the vibrant and fragrant blooms that adorned her garden. She would spend hours tending to her beloved plants, nurturing them with care and affection. Her grandmama also had a green thumb when it came to growing tomatoes, and it was a cherished tradition for Crystal and her grandmama to pick ripe tomatoes together during the warm summer months.Following her grandmama’s passing, Crystal often found herself missing those delightful moments spent in her company. As the weeks turned into months and the months into years, Crystal longed for a sign, something to remind her of the special bond she shared with her grandmama. One sunny afternoon, Crystal found herself lost in thought, gazing out of her bedroom window. Suddenly, a flash of red caught her eye. A vibrant cardinal perched itself on the windowsill, its feathers glistening in the sunlight. Crystal felt a warmth in her heart as she remembered her grandmama’s love for red birds and how her eyes would light up whenever one came into view. Days turned into weeks, and the presence of the cardinal at Crystal’s window became a common occurrence. Sometimes, when Crystal was feeling particularly down or missing her grandmama, the cardinal would appear as if on cue, perched on her windowsill, bringing comfort and a reminder of her love. Crystal felt a deep connection with her grandmama each time she saw the cardinal, and it became a source of solace during moments of sadness But it wasn’t just the cardinal that gave Crystal reassurance that her grandmama was still with her. There were moments when things mysteriously went missing, and just as Crystal would begin to search for them, she would find them unexpectedly. It was as if her grandmama was playfully reminding Crystal of their days spent together, a subtle sign from aboveOne day, as Crystal was reminiscing about her grandmama while tending to her own garden, she noticed a familiar scent wafting through the air. It was the unmistakable fragrance of her grandmama’s favorite flowers, the same fragrance that would fill the air during their leisurely walks through the garden. Crystal’s eyes filled with tears as she realized that her grandmama’s love for flowers continued to surround her, even in the absence of her physical presenceThe signs from above, whether it was the cardinal on the windowsill, the missing and found objects, or the fragrance of her grandmama’s favorite flowers, became Crystal’s way of staying connected with her grandmama. These signs served as a reminder that despite the physical separation, love transcends all boundaries and continues to exist in the simplest of things.Crystal learned to cherish these signs and shared them with her loved ones, spreading the message of love and connection that her grandmama had instilled in her. And though her grandmama may no longer be physically present, her spirit lives on through those signs, forever reminding Crystal of the unwavering love they shared and the cherished memories they created together.
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grand26 days ago in Families
A Granddaughter’s Tribute. Content Warning.
As I sit down to write about the profound impact my grandmother had on my life, I am filled with a mix of emotions. Her love was a guiding force that empowered me and shaped the person I am today. From a young age, she instilled in me the values of discipline, hard work, and the importance of resilience. Her conditional love was a source of hope and strength that carried me through both joyful and challenging moments of my life. One of the most significant ways my grandmother influenced me was through her discipline. She taught me the value of perseverance and the rewards that come with dedication. Whether it was in the garden, where she patiently nurtured her plants, or in the kitchen, where she passed down her treasured recipes, she demonstrated the power of hard work and commitment. Her lessons in discipline became the foundation of my character, shaping my determination and work ethic. However, it was her unwavering love that truly defined our relationship. No matter the circumstance, her love for me was constant and unyielding. It provided me the sense of security and confidence, knowing that I always had her support. Her love was a source of hope that illuminated even the darkest moments of my life. When she passed, I felt as though a part of me was torn away. The pain was indescribable, and I struggled to come to terms with the void her absence left in my life. Yet, in the midst of my grief, I found solace in the enduring lessons she had imparted. Love and teachings continued to empower me, guiding me through the healing process and inspiring me to carry on her legacy. Though her physical presence may be gone, her love and empowerment live on within me. I honor her memory by embracing the values she cherished and sharing the lessons she taught me with others. I find strength in knowing that her love continues to shape and guide me, giving me the resilience to overcome life’s biggest challenges.My Grandmother’s love and empowerment remain a powerful force in my life, sustaining me through the trials and tribulations I encounter. In her memory, I strive to embody the qualities she so gracefully exemplified, and I am forever grateful for the profound impact she had on me. She may have passed, but her love and empowerment endure, forever shaping the person I am and the person I aspire to become.Crystal’s grandmama had a remarkable fondness for flowers, particularly the vibrant and fragrant blooms that adorned her garden. She would spend hours tending to her beloved plants, nurturing them with care and affection. Her grandmama also had a green thumb when it came to growing tomatoes, and it was a cherished tradition for Crystal and her grandmama to pick ripe tomatoes together during the warm summer months. Following her grandmama’s passing, Crystal often found herself missing those delightful moments spent in her company. As the weeks turned into months and the months into years, Crystal longed for a sign, something to remind her of the special bond she shared with her grandmama. One sunny afternoon, Crystal found herself lost in thought, gazing out of her bedroom window. Suddenly, a flash of red caught her eye. A vibrant cardinal perched itself on the windowsill, its feathers glistening in the sunlight. Crystal felt a warmth in her heart as she remembered her grandmama’s love for red birds and how her eyes would light up whenever one came into view.Days turned into weeks, and the presence of the cardinal at Crystal’s window became a common occurrence. Sometimes, when Crystal was feeling particularly down or missing her grandmama, the cardinal would appear as if on cue, perched on her windowsill, bringing comfort and a reminder of her love. Crystal felt a deep connection with her grandmama each time she saw the cardinal, and it became a source of solace during moments of sadness.But it wasn’t just the cardinal that gave Crystal reassurance that her grandmama was still with her. There were moments when things mysteriously went missing, and just as Crystal would begin to search for them, she would find them unexpectedly. It was as if her grandmama was playfully reminding Crystal of their days spent together, a subtle sign from above.One day, as Crystal was reminiscing about her grandmama while tending to her own garden, she noticed a familiar scent wafting through the air. It was the unmistakable fragrance of her grandmama’s favorite flowers, the same fragrance that would fill the air during their leisurely walks through the garden. Crystal’s eyes filled with tears as she realized that her grandmama’s love for flowers continued to surround her, even in the absence of her physical presence.The signs from above, whether it was the cardinal on the windowsill, the missing and found objects, or the fragrance of her grandmama’s favorite flowers, became Crystal’s way of staying connected with her grandmama. These signs served as a reminder that despite the physical separation, love transcends all boundaries and continues to exist in the simplest of things.Crystal learned to cherish these signs and shared them with her loved ones, spreading the message of love and connection that her grandmama had instilled in her. And though her grandmama may no longer be physically present, her spirit lives on through those signs, forever reminding Crystal of the unwavering love they shared and the cherished memories they created together.
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grand30 days ago in Journal
Grace In Goodbye. Content Warning.
As I sat by my grandmother’s bedside in the quiet of her assisted living room, surrounded by the remnants of a life well-lived, I gently opened the worn pages of “Jesus Calling.” The familiar words of the daily devotional brought comfort and a sense of connection to the divine presence she had always cherished. My grandmother, a woman of unwavering faith who had spent her days in service to the Lord, had been my rock through the highs and lows of my life. But now, as dementia clouded her once-sharp mind and the ravages of age took their toll, I found myself in the role of caregiver, visiting her daily to read the words that brought her peace.Each day, as I fed her and read the devotional aloud, a flicker of recognition would light up her eyes, and a serene smile would grace her lips. It was in those moments that I felt closest to her, as if our souls were intertwined in a sacred bond that transcended time and space. But when the doctors delivered the devastating news of her declining health and impending passing, my heart shattered into a million pieces. The thought of saying goodbye to the one person who had always loved me unconditionally was unbearable. As we gathered around her in those final moments, my family granted me a precious gift — a moment alone with her. With tears streaming down my face, I poured out my heart to her, whispering my gratitude for her love and guidance, and promising to carry on her legacy of faith and love. In that sacred space between life and death, I made a solemn vow to her — a vow of sobriety and redemption. For years, I had struggled with addiction, hiding my pain and shame from the one person who had always seen the best in me. But as I held her frail hand in mine, I confessed my newfound strength and resolve to live a life she would be proud of. With a final prayer on my lips, I kissed her forehead and whispered my final goodbye. Through my tears, I could almost see her spirit soaring towards the heavens, released from the confines of her earthly body to dwell in eternal peace. And as I grieved her passing, I knew that her love and faith would always be with me, a guiding light in the darkness, reminding me of the grace and mercy that awaited us all in our eternal home. As I clutched the devotional in my trembling hands, I flipped to the page marked with today’s date, March 10th. The words seemed to leap off the page, their significance resonating deep within me. It was as if the universe was speaking through the pages of “Jesus Calling,” reaffirming what my heart already knew — that my beloved grandmother’s journey on this earth was coming to an end, and soon she would find eternal rest in the arms of her Savior. With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, I made my way out of her room, the weight of impending loss pressing down on me like a leaden shroud. I found my mother and her sister in the hallway, and without a word, I showed them the devotional page for the day. As they read the words that had brought comfort and solace to our grandmother in her final days, a sense of peace settled over us, like a balm for our wounded hearts. We knew then, without a doubt, that today was the day she would leave us to join the heavenly choir, her spirit finally free from the confines of her earthly body. Gathering our strength and resolve, we returned to her bedside one last time, surrounding her with love and prayers as the final moments drew near. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden rays upon her peaceful face, she took her last breath, slipping quietly into the waiting embrace of her Lord and Savior. In that sacred moment of transition, I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me, knowing that she was no longer bound by pain or suffering, but soaring on wings of light towards a place of eternal joy and love. And as we bid her farewell, I whispered a prayer of gratitude for her life, her love, and the profound impact she had made on all who knew her. As we stood together in the fading light of that March evening, I knew that although her physical presence was gone, her spirit would forever dwell in our hearts, a beacon of hope and faith guiding us through the dark nights ahead. And as I clutched the devotional close to my chest, I felt her presence whispers of love and grace surrounding me, a reminder that she was now at peace in her eternal home.
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grand30 days ago in Journal
Black Sheep. Content Warning.
Once upon a time, in a world filled with hardships and challenges, there lived a person who had experienced the depths of despair and the adversities of life. This person, who shall remain nameless but whose spirit was unbreakable, faced a true story of struggle and redemption. Born into a family that seemed to harbor a deep-seated resentment, our protagonist had to navigate a childhood and adolescence filled with hatred and being disowned. It was as if their family didn’t truly understand or acknowledge who this individual was. The weight of this rejection added to the burdens they carried, and life became an uphill battle.As they grew older, this person found solace, or so they thought, in the embrace of drug addiction. Fueled by the pain and isolation they had endured, the allure of drugs offered a temporary escape from the harsh reality of their existence. However, this path only led them down a dark tunnel, eventually resulting in a divorce and repeated encounters with the law, leading to not one, but two, imprisonments.But amidst the chaos and despair, a flicker of hope remained. The realization that this was not who they truly were, that they were not destined to be labeled a criminal, ignited a determination deep within them. With sheer willpower, this individual embarked on a path of redemption and transformation.Their journey was not without challenges. They faced near-death experiences three times, each one a stark reminder of the fragility of life. These brushes with mortality served as wake-up calls, reinforcing the fire that burned within them to turn their life around.As if the universe wanted to test their resilience further, a devastating blow struck when they lost one of the most important people in their life, their beloved grandmother. The weight of this loss only deepened their determination to honor her memory by embracing life and reaching for their full potential.While the road to redemption appeared promising, more hurdles lay ahead. Health scares plagued their mother, adding another layer of worry and responsibility to an already burdened heart. And within the turbulent landscape of relationships, they faced yet another hurtful encounter. It felt as though every time they climbed out of one hole, fate found a way to push them back down.Yet, through the storm, the unwavering faith in a higher power, the Lord, provided a guiding light. Overcoming addiction, our protagonist discovered newfound interests and passions, becoming a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. But despite these accomplishments, the concerns for their mother and the fear of falling into another dark place lingered, casting shadows on their progress.In this true story, marked by hardship, resilience, and redemption, our protagonist stands as a symbol of endurance and hope. Though the path ahead may still be uncertain, they have proven time and time again that they possess the strength to rise from the depths, to learn, and to grow.As their journey continues, we find peace in the belief that this indomitable spirit, forged through fire and struggle, will ultimately triumph over the challenges that lie ahead. I embraced my uniqueness, weaving my own path through the fabric of tradition and expectation. My journey wasn’t just about overcoming; it was about becoming-becoming the person I was meant to be. And if I can emerge from the shadows of doubt and misunderstanding, so can you. Remember, even the blackest wool can shine when it finds its place in the sun. I started putting the man above first in everything and that’s when I met the most amazing man ever! And everything started to come together for me and I’m so very thankful!
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grandabout a month ago in Families
Alto: My Worst Nightmare. Content Warning.
In the dimly lit confines of my prison cell, I often found myself reflecting on the series of events that led me to this point. It wasn’t a violent crime or a heinous act that brought me here, but rather a violation of my probation and a desperate attempt to outrun the consequences. As I traced the lines of the cold, metal bars that separated me from the outside world, I knew that I had hit rock bottom.In the haze of disbelief, I found myself sentenced to year in the state penitentiary a decision to outrun the police, hoping to avoid a fate behind bars that seemed inconceivable. The reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks as I entered the gates of Diagnostics, one of Georgia’s largest and most infamous prisons. It was a place that had once housed only men, a labyrinth of filth and despair that loomed large before The stench of decay and desperation clung to every corner of the prison, a constant reminder of the darkness that surrounded me. Among the sea of inmates, I found myself lying awake at night next to a young woman who had committed a heinous crime — the murder of her own grandparents at the tender age of 18. The heat was oppressive, the air thick with humidity and the weight of our shared pasts. Each day felt like a never-ending trek through hell, a half-mile march to the mess hall just to receive a meager meal. In the midst of the chaos and brutality, I clung to a sliver of hope in the form of a Bible that I had begged for relentlessly. When it finally found its way into my hands after a week of pleading, its words provided a glimmer of solace in a place devoid of light.As I navigated the treacherous waters of prison life, I found myself face to face with the harsh realities of my fellow inmates’ stories. The television blaring true crime shows like “Snapped” served as a chilling reminder of the darkness that resided within these walls, as I sat beside a woman whose own tale of tragedy unfolded before my eyes. The days blended into nights, each one a test of my will and my resolve to survive in a place designed to break spirits. The experience was a haunting dream from which I feared I would never wake, a nightmare that etched itself into the very fabric of my being. As I emerged from that crucible of suffering, I carried with me the scars of my time in prison, a reminder of the depths to which humanity can sink and the resilience required to rise above it. But in the midst of the darkness, a flicker of hope ignited within me. I realized that this could be my chance for redemption, a turning point in my life that would define who I was meant to be. I poured my thoughts and emotions onto the pages of a worn journal, using words as my escape from the harsh reality of prison life. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and slowly but surely, I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I immersed myself in books, gaining knowledge and wisdom that I had never sought before. I engaged in conversations with fellow inmates, learning from their experiences and gaining a new perspective on life.As I navigated the challenges of prison life, I discovered a strength within myself that I never knew existed. I found solace in the routine of daily tasks, the simple pleasures of a hot meal or a kind word from a fellow inmate. I embraced the solitude of my cell, using it as a sanctuary for reflection and growth. And when the day finally came for me to walk out of those prison gates, I knew that I was a changed woman. I had faced my demons head-on, confronted my past mistakes, and emerged stronger on the other side. My time in prison had been a crucible, a test of my resilience and my ability to endure. As I took my first steps back into the world outside, I carried with me the lessons I had learned behind bars. I was no longer defined by my past mistakes, but by the person I had become in spite of them. And as I looked towards the horizon, I knew that the journey was far from over, but I was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and conviction.
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grandabout a month ago in Criminal
The Forgotten Memories. Content Warning.
There was a remarkable woman named Mildred, whose warm smile and kind heart touched the lives of everyone she met. Mildred was not only a loving grandmother, but also a pillar of strength for her family. Her gentle nature and wise words provided comfort during the most challenging times. As the years went by, Mildred began to show signs of forgetfulness and confusion. At first, her family dismissed it as a normal part of aging, but gradually, they came to realize that something more serious was at play. The diagnosis was heart-wrenching: dementia. It was a difficult journey for Mildred and her family. The once vibrant and vivacious woman began to lose touch with her sense of self, as her memories slipped away like grains of sand through an hourglass. Simple tasks became monumental challenges, and her family watched helplessly as she struggled to hold on to her identity. Mildred’s grandchildren, who adored her beyond measure, were deeply pained to see the change in their beloved grandmother. No longer could they share stories together, laugh at her witty jokes, or seek solace in her loving embrace. It was as though a part of Mildred had vanished, leaving behind a hollow shell that mirrored only fragments of her former self. The loss was not just Mildred’s alone; it extended to her family as well. Tears were shed, and hearts ached for the woman they cherished so dearly. Each interaction with Mildred became bittersweet, as they grappled with the reality that the woman they once knew was slowly fading .Despite the relentless hardships that dementia brought, Mildred’s family rallied around her, determined to create moments of love and joy amidst the darkness of her illness. They cherished every fleeting moment of connection and found solace in their shared history, even when she no longer recognized their faces.As the seasons changed and time pressed forward, Mildred’s condition continued to deteriorate. Her family’s love remained a constant guiding light, providing support and compassion as they took on the role of caregivers. They cultivated an atmosphere of love and understanding, where Mildred always felt safe and cherished, even in her moments of confusion.Eventually, the day came when Mildred peacefully passed away. Her family’s hearts were heavy with grief, but also filled with gratitude for the beautiful memories they shared with her. They mourned the loss of Mildred’s physical presence, but knew that her enduring spirit would always be a part of their In the years that followed, Mildred’s family honored her memory by raising awareness about dementia and supporting organizations that provided care and research for the disease. They found solace in knowing that their beloved grandmother’s journey had not been in vain and that her courageous battle against dementia had ignited a spark of compassion and understanding within their hearts.The story of Mildred, the grandmother who was adored, serves as a poignant reminder of the devastating impact of dementia on families. It is a reminder to treasure each precious moment with our loved ones, as we never know what tomorrow may bring. Above all, it teaches us the power of love, resilience, and the enduring strength of the human spirit, even in the face of the most unforgiving of circumstances. I invite you to visit my website, aintheavengrand.com. There, you’ll find a sanctuary of articles, personal stories, and resources that will guide you towards a more harmonious and fulfilling life. The beautiful soul I write about is my grandmother who never had a greedy or jealousy bone in her body and she helped raise me and taught me the true meaning of love and that made my heart what it is today. And I totally believe that’s why She lived to be 94.
By CRiS CaMP- Aint Heaven Grandabout a month ago in Families