Have You Ever Seen Someone Take Their Last Breath?

Honoring My Centenarian Grandmothers’ Legacy of Love, Wisdom, and Strength

The Moment Everything Changed

Have you ever seen someone take their last breath?

I have. Someone who always proudly told everyone I looked like her, and I did.

Even as she lay her casket, countless family members told me she looked like me. Whew…

One year ago yesterday, I sat beside my beautiful, strong, and deeply wise grandmother, Agnes Idella Owens, as she took her final breath at 102 years old. It was a moment I will never forget.

Her chest rose… then gently fell.
One last rise. One final fall.
And then stillness.

And just five days earlier, I had said goodbye to my other incredible grandmother, Ocie Williams, who was about to turn 98. I held her hand and she stared into my eyes for at least an hour the night before she passed. I’m forever grateful for that time we spent together. I knew it would be the last time I’d touch her warm skin or whisper “I love you” in her ear. But it was.

Two grandmothers. Two legacies.
Gone in the same week.
And my heart has never been the same.

More Than Grandmothers—They Were My Foundation

Grandma Agnes and Grandma Ocie were more than matriarchs of our family. They were survivors. Teachers. Truth-tellers. Faith-filled fighters who lived through decades of history and hardship—and still carried themselves with unmatched dignity and grace.

When I think about confidence, resilience, leadership, and life—everything I speak and teach about today—it’s because of the example they set and the lessons they lived.

And although their bodies are no longer with me, their voices still are.
Their strength still is.
Their love still is.

Keeping Their Legacy Alive

To honor the powerful lives they lived, I poured my heart into a book—
100 Lessons My Centenarian Grandmas Taught Me: Two Centuries of Motherly Wisdom and Timeless Advice on Confidence, Resilience, Leadership, and Life.

www.100lessonsmygrandmastaughtme.com

It’s not just a tribute.
It’s a torch.
And I’m carrying it for them. For me. And for anyone searching for the kind of wisdom that only 102 years of living can provide.

And that’s not all.

At this year’s 3rd Annual S.O. What! Awards and Scholarship Soiree, we’ll be awarding scholarships in my grandmothers’ names. The Agnes Owens and Ocie Williams Memorial Scholarship will go to a resilient young woman pursuing her education—someone who reminds me of them. Someone who needs a reminder that she’s not alone, and that strength runs deep through her veins too.

A Grief That Doesn’t Expire

Losing them both in the same week was more than heartbreaking. It was life-altering. I found myself in a space where grief met gratitude. Where pain and peace collided.

And even a year later, I still find myself crying in the quiet moments. Missing their laughs. Craving their hugs. Wishing I could ask them just one more question.

But I also feel their presence every single day.

In the way I parent.
In the way I lead.
In the way I speak life into others.

They’re still here—with every lesson I share, every story I tell, and every time I push through something hard and whisper, “S.O. What!”

If You’ve Ever Been There Too…

If you’ve ever watched someone you love take their last breath, I see you.
If you haven’t, cherish the time you have. Say what you need to say. Hold their hand longer. Listen more. Laugh more.

And when it’s your time to carry their legacy, do it with love, pride, and purpose.

I know I am.

Rest in eternal peace, Grandma Agnes and Grandma Ocie.
Your lives shaped mine, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure the world knows who you were.