The Good Morning America anchor was born in Tuskegee, Alabama.

Robin Roberts is spending the weekend resting up by taking a quick break from NYC, although not to her “happy place” in Key West, Florida like always.

This time, the 64-year-old news anchor and former athlete flew down to Pass Christian, Mississippi, the town she grew up in and considers her hometown, although she was born in Tuskegee, Alabama.

Robin documented the trip with a few visuals shared across social media, including some well-earned sibling bonding time and a photo of a beautiful beach-lined roadway.

Weekend at home

“What a wonderful weekend in my precious hometown. Enjoyed making new memories with family & dear friends,” she penned on Instagram, receiving fan responses like: “Never get tired of that Gulf view!” and: “Wonderful when you can be in your hometown!! So meaningful.”

Robin has three older siblings, named Lawrence Jr. (aka Butch), Dorothy and Sally-Ann, the latter of whom is also a newscaster and was responsible for providing Robin with her life-saving bone marrow transplant.

The Good Morning America anchor shared a highlight from the trip, a selfie of herself with her lookalike siblings, all as happy as can be, simply writing across it: “We are family.”

The former ESPN host is the daughter of late Tuskegee Airman Lawrence E. Roberts and Lucimarian Roberts née Tolliver, who left a profound impact on her daughter, most notably through her health struggles.

Wisdom from Lucimarian

Robin often quoted her mother’s signature phrase, “make your mess your message,” during her battle with breast cancer and myelodysplastic syndrome, addressing some of the values she imbibed from her late mother, who died in 2012, in her 2022 memoir Brighter by the Day.

“My mother, who was full of mommy-isms I’ve loved sharing over the years, had her own phrase for a joy that acknowledges sadness. She called it ‘happy sorrow’,” Robin recalled, penning how an incident at her father’s funeral, complete with a gospel choir, inspired the quote.

“Mom faced the choir, thrust her arms high in the air, and began directing. ‘No, no!’ her voice rang out as I looked at her sideways,” she remembered. “‘More upbeat!’ And just like that, the singers quickened their tempo, turning a somber refrain into one of jubilation.”

“Later, Mom told us why she’d done that. ‘Yes, your father is gone, and we hurt,’ she said. ‘But think of the joy he brought us. Think of all our wonderful memories of him. You can have sad sorrow or happy sorrow’ — and she chose the latter. She did so not just on that day, but over and over throughout her years.”

Robin continued: “That idea has stayed with me. I even have a little placard that says happy sorrow. Every time I glance at it, I chuckle at the thought of Mom directing that choir, and I also remember her wisdom.”

“In our times now, none of us are walking around with a plastic grin, and we shouldn’t be. No one’s pretending all is well in a world gone topsy-turvy. There’s uncertainty. There’s vulnerability. There’s sadness at times. And yet even when sorrow pays us a visit, it can take a seat alongside joy. The two can coexist.”