Aunt Bernice: Caregiver Extraordinaire

casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7)

As I've been pondering how to pay homage to my dear Aunt Bernice, it dawned on me that I come from a long line of gutsy women. Bold. Mavericks in their own right. And of course, lots of spice and sass. But we also have a soft, tender side as nurturers, caring for the people we love in our lives. My Aunt Bernice was no exception.

"There are only four kinds of people in the world. Those who have been caregivers.
Those who are currently caregivers. Those who will be caregivers, and those who will need
a caregiver." - First Lady Rosalyn Carter

I have large extended families on both maternal and paternal sides. My paternal grandparents had 12 children; my dad is number eight of the dozen. Grandma died four years before I was born, and I’ve always heard complimentary adjectives to describe her personality– easy-going, mild-mannered. Sweet. Daddy says she was a quilter in their community and has fond memories of her frying up chicken and making homemade biscuits on Sunday mornings.

Out of nearly 30 grandchildren, I was the one born on her birthday: June 28th. (Cheers to Chapter 47! 🎉🥂🍾)

My Mitchell family was part of The Great Migration - the huge wave of southern Black folks who fled the South and moved up North for better job opportunities and a better life. Uncle Willie was the first to make the trek, settling in upstate New York, followed by Aunt Ann and then Aunt Bernice after she graduated from high school in 1960. One thing I admire about Auntie is that she was a free spirit in her own right, willing to be a fearless risk-taker by moving to different regions across the United States.

If you really think about it - besides military families - many people reside in the same town/city/state their entire lives.

Let me pause for a moment and put Aunt Bernice's story into its proper context against the backdrop of American history:

Auntie was 83 years old when she passed away last month. A Black woman who grew up in the rural Deep South. Left home as a teenager after high school and moved to New York. In 1960.

That's bold. That's fierce. That's courage.

Yes, she had two older siblings awaiting her arrival up North. But still - it takes guts to leave home, leave everything you've known, leave everything that's familiar, and pursue uncharted territory.

I didn’t realize my aunt was a healthcare worker in New York until I typed her obituary. She later moved from upstate New York to Los Angeles with her husband. They had a baby girl named Angie.

Several years passed by, and Aunt Bernice left L.A. with Angie in tow; she moved back home to Alabama. Auntie did not wallow in self-pity or sorrow when things didn’t work out in her marriage or when her circumstances changed. She had a little girl to raise. She had a life to live, picking herself up, dusting herself off, and starting over again. She kept it movin'.

"Take a deep breath, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again."
- Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields

After a brief stint in Alabama, Aunt Bernice relocated to Miami and lived there for over 30 years, owning her own business and becoming a certified caregiver to various patients. But she didn’t just take care of her patients.

She took care of family.

When Daddy got a job in Miami in the summer of ‘72, he stayed with Aunt Bernice. She welcomed my cousin Chuck with open arms (who was practically a son to her and a brother to Angie) during his college years and early career. Her home was filled with food, fun times, and of course, laughter.

Random memories: Road trip from Alabama to Miami in ‘84 when Angie graduated from high school (I was five years old and I still remember where Granddaddy sat during the ride). Me and my cousins snooping around as we went from room to room at Auntie’s house; one cousin even tried on one of her wigs! Our family reunion day cruise in ‘89. Going to a jai alai game a few years later and Auntie told the ticket salesman that my little brother was 12 (he was actually 10). Fried fish. Gumbo. The backyard. Palm trees. Music. And again, laughter.

Aunt Bernice was a phenomenal grandmother, and she played a significant role in her grandson’s upbringing. She always made herself available to support Angie and her husband.

And Auntie was a caregiver to her one and only daughter as she battled cancer. Sadly, my cousin Angie passed away in 2012. I really, really miss her and I know she would be so proud of the man her son has become. Certainly gone too soon.

That’s a whole ‘nother level of pain – to have your one and only child precede you in death. That’s a whole ‘nother level of grief I would never wish for anyone. Trust me, I know firsthand how it feels to have the “natural order” of life disrupted by the loss of a child. You are forever changed.

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” - Maya Angelou

Aunt Bernice circled her way back home to Alabama in the early 2000’s, being near family. I’m sure Auntie shed many tears throughout her life. I bet she had her “Why?” questions - it’s only human nature. However, she never seemed overwhelmed by her sorrows. She could still easily smile. She could still easily laugh and make others laugh - that’s a Mitchell trait.

But I guess the main lesson I have learned from my aunt’s life is to keep moving forward. Don’t let the hard knocks of life weigh you down and bring you under. Carve out your own happiness, enjoy your life. And don’t forget to have fun! I wasn’t able to attend her memorial service, but I was told that a major theme throughout the reflections was Aunt Bernice knew how to have a good time! This may be the best quote to sum up my aunt’s perspective on life:

"My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.” - Maya Angelou

Aunt Bernice, I must say 83 years on this earth was a great run. You lived a full life, and your legacy of love and caregiving and fun times will always remain with me. Mama told me the last time she and Daddy saw you, you still had that same beautiful smile. You were truly one of the most gutsy women I’ve ever known in my entire life! And you will always, always be with me in spirit. I love you.

Your niece,
Trindi 💜