Legacy, Love & Letting It Sink In

By BrandiJ

A few weeks ago, I took a trip to Ohio with my parents—Mama is 81 and Daddy is 86—and it was one of those moments that hit different. I was the one behind the wheel 🚗, grateful not just to be able to drive them, but to still have them here with me 🙏🏾. We made that drive to say goodbye to someone special, Sis Dunn, and my brother Greg came along too. Now listen, Greg ain’t driving nowhere, but he will ride—and crack jokes along the way. 😂

That car ride was full of laughter, old stories, and those quiet pauses that somehow say more than words ever could. Daddy, of course, was giving his usual backseat directions—because even at his age, he swears he knows a better route 🤦🏾‍♀️. But as we got close to Ohio, he started sharing memories: the school he went to, the neighborhood he grew up in. Mama chimed in, telling me about some apartments she wanted them to move into back in the day so they could be closer to friends. But Daddy? He wanted to be near Grandma. Simple choice, deep love 🥹❤️.

It really hit me on that ride just how much of an honor it is to be their daughter. People light up when they see them ✨. There’s something about their presence. They’ve poured love into me my whole life—even in the moments when I didn’t do what they wanted or expected, they always made sure we found our way back to love. That’s a legacy.

And then we arrived to honor Sis.Dunn. Let me tell you… whew 😢. She was married for 65 years. Sixty-five. I’m 49, so I already know I’m not going to see that kind of number, but if I can get thirty years of the right kind of love? I’ll be grateful. Watching her husband, Deacon Dunn, talk about how they worked together, how much he’s going to miss her, how she loved him, and he loved her? That brought tears to my eyes 💔. That’s the kind of love I want. Not perfect, not performative, just real and rooted.

Her life made me think about mine. I want to be that kind of woman—someone who leaves a mark like she did. Not just a memory, but a presence that lingers in people’s hearts 💐. I was so proud watching my niece Destiny and nephew J-Kidd share their gifts at the service. It was such a moment of pride, like “Yes! That’s our family. That’s our lineage.” I know their grandmother was smiling 😇.

Now, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little, thinking that a 65-year love story probably isn’t in the cards for me. But here’s the thing—my journey is my journey 🛤️. God hasn’t forgotten me. And I believe with everything in me that what I’m stepping into now, this next season of love, it’s gonna be something different… and something special 💞.

Honestly, I’m at peace with where I am. I’m not chasing fantasy. What I want now is a man who is truly my best friend. Someone who loves me deeply, prays for me, protects and provides—and yes, spoils me a little because why not? 😂✨ But it’s not just about being spoiled. It’s about partnership, honesty, and growth. I’ve learned that love is a process, not a performance. And you don’t have to have it all figured out to have something real.

Watching my parents—married 57 years now—I see that. I see how love evolves. I see how they’ve chosen each other through highs and lows. I used to think love had to be big and perfect in the first year, but now I understand that the longer you stay, the deeper it gets 💪🏾. That’s what I want.

Their love absolutely shaped mine. I’ve always been the type to support, to pour in, to show up. But I didn’t always know how to stay when it got hard. I didn’t fully understand what “for better or worse” meant. But I do now. And yes, it’s scary—but it’s also beautiful 🥰. The idea of waking up to the same person and choosing them every single day? Whew. That hits.

What I cherish most about my parents’ love is how they’ve loved all of us—each child with our own needs, our own paths, and our own flaws. And yet they’ve shown up for us again and again. That kind of love? That kind of wisdom? I’m carrying it with me for the rest of my life 🌱.

If my 81-year-old self could sit down with me right now, I think she’d say, “Baby, be blessed in the process.” She’d remind me that love doesn’t always show up looking like fairytales. But if you pay attention, it shows up in ways you didn’t even know you needed 💫. Focus on what’s real. On what’s being done. Keep showing up as your best self and trust that love will meet you there.

For me, “enough” looks like respect, support, good communication, laughter, and a soft place to land. I don’t need wealth and status, I need peace 🕊️. I want to add to my man’s joy, and I want him to already be whole so we’re not fixing each other, we’re fueling each other.

And yes, I truly believe the love I’m cultivating now—whether it’s with ******** or within myself—can still be a beautiful, powerful love story. It might not look like my parents’. It might be a little crazy, twisted, peaceful, and passionate. But it’ll be ours. And that’s what makes it enough 💘.

When I look at this photo of me and my parents from that weekend, I see generational love 🖤. I see strength. I see wisdom. And I see a woman who’s learning to receive it all.

I’m on this journey? It’s still being written.
And I’ve got a feeling that the next chapter’s about to be so good. 📖✨

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