ROSITA + JOYCE

My dear Grandma Rosita, is my mother's mother. She lives far far away from here and I am not able to see her too often. If I had things my way, I would get to see her every single day. When I sit and reminisce about the early stages of my upbringing, a lot of memories involve my Grandma Rosita. 

I remember not ever wanting to leave her side when I was around her and whenever I would have bad dreams I would always ask for her. And sometimes even now, I am still like that. I crave her around me when my days are crappy. I got to visit her early last year and showed her that her name was on my wrist. She wasn't happy that I had tattoos, however she was flattered that it was of her name. I am going overseas to see her for her birthday this year and really, May cannot come any sooner.

My dear Nanny Joyce is my father's mother. And although she is no longer with us, I still feel her around me where ever I go. I recall it being the best fun when I was at home doing nothing with her. We would chase my dad around the house purposely annoying him by singing and carrying on like children. And this is exactly what I miss about her. 

I remember this one time I was painting my nails black in front of her and she asked me if I could paint hers the same colour too, and so I did. Then when her carer came to visit, she asked why an 85 year old woman was wearing black nail polish and Nan told her that she wanted to have nails just like mine. This made me laugh so hard. I miss her so much.