I Grew Up Learning From My Grandma. Now, I Am Learning About Who Carole Is.

I talk to everyone. I talk and I listen. It has become one of my most widely recognized traits. Sitting in the backseat of an uber, I listen to anecdotes. On my way to SFO, I had an hour long conversation with David. David had lived in Fremont his whole life. He shared his gratitude for his high school friendships. Even in his thirties, those friendships have endured and  shaped his identity. I shared with him all the joys of my semester. That, I felt so grateful for the connections I made and the memories I experienced. Something David told me was, don't be judgemental, be curious. He said this was his favorite quote. I quickly made a note on my phone. Nearing the end of the ride, he said to not forget to give myself grace. I will never see David again, but I will be changed by our conversation. I love learning about people. Their experiences, their passions, or their losses. I never hesitate to approach people. I end up making a friend, learning something new, or being changed in the process. So let me emphasize one thing, give humanity a chance. And learn from everyone around you.

I was eight years old and not excited for my eleven hour flight to Incheon. My Grandma told me to look around and be curious. Think about where people were going, who they were seeing or leaving behind? Were they carrying sorrow or excitement? When I began thinking this way, I never stopped. My Grandma has widened my peripheral view to include everyone, strangers, and our sentient earth. She reminds me that our world is imperfect. That, people are imperfect. But to enter the world with kindness, and with the intention to include all. She is the reason I talk to everyone. I never forget that differences only unite humanity. I have approached this piece with a lot of care. Because I want to get it right. I want to find the words to describe the most meaningful relationship and person in my life. I want to say the right thing. She deserves everything. She deserves to be recognized for her life devoted to compassion, faith, family, resilience. I can go on and on. And I will. My Grandma Carole has taught me to approach life with open arms. To accept defeat. To accept kindness. But to live generously. Devote your energy to living with love. She also taught me to look down. She takes pride in planting beautiful flowers, but also respecting our natural world. I have been shaped to understand that I am a small piece in our earth. That is, nature, living creatures, owe me nothing. But I owe everything to the natural world. I have spent my life learning from my Grandma. Now that I have grown up, I am learning about who Carole is. 

I drink a lot of tea. I love to paint. I love to bake. I love art. Flowers. Insects. Reading. People. My faith. I have truly been shaped by my Grandma Carole. To appreciate art,  the creation of beauty and meaning. To admire and appreciate all that grows around us. To be kind to animals. To be compassionate and practice gratitude. To practice my faith. To bathe myself in the gifts of our sentient earth. Grandma Carole opened my peripheral lens to see that life is more than my own existence. That is, spread your energy like wind flows through trees. Have your soul linger in every blade of grass and every hand you wave. Allow your love to saturate not only your life, but all. I am who I am. Because of her. And anyone who knows me, knows her. I call my Grandma at least three times a day. Getting ready for the day. I call her. Walking back to my dorm. I call her. At the end of the day. I call her. Our conversations never end, they just continue. Every time I hang up. It is just a pause. Because her voice soothes me like no medicine ever could. She greets every pain with grace. She welcomes every defeat with courage. I don’t think she gives herself enough credit. Grammy, be kinder to yourself. She feeds me with compassion and resilience. When I think about home, I think about my grandparents. That’s my home. As I'm writing this, my stomach is beginning to squeeze and ache. My lips are twitching and anxiously trying to stay still. My cheeks are pink and my eyes are glistening with emotion. I feel warmth drip from the ends of my face. Like dew falling from the end of a leaf. My grandparents have become the emotional center of a world, my world. My Grandma has told me stories of working as a teacher. She devoted her life to teaching art. When she paints it’s with no effort at all. She has an innate inclination towards beauty. Her hands, her soul, move with grace but fragility. I observe as she creates a scene, depicting movement, feeling, and longing. Capturing the essence of her youngest granddaughters, frolicking through grass. Hues of green, pink, and fading sunset meander across the page. She dips her brush gently into the damp watercolors, moving in relaxed strokes, as if she has acted this motion hundreds of times. Like every painting she creates, my Grandma acts with grace. And the beauty she sees and creates is a reflection of the beauty in her. 

My Father returns to me in butterflies. I see them. They come to me. My Grandma has told me. Throughout my childhood butterflies appeared around us. A monarch landed on my finger when I was 6. Maybe I was being chosen. Or maybe it was just taking a quick rest. I can’t imagine being in constant flight. Since our conversation, butterflies appear around me. Everyday. Most days, twice a day. I am reminded that I am not alone. My grandma's voice carries the soul of her father. Which carries this energy to me. (As I am writing this it is quarter to noon and I have already seen three butterflies today). I have resonated with butterflies as my own spiritual connection. I don’t doubt that I will return with twinkling wings, that flap and ripple warm energy to everything around me. I want to glow in every shadow or absence of sun. I want my soul to cover every surface like ivy climbs the limbs of a tree. I have been raised to appreciate insects, but to also appreciate those who have lived before me. I was born into a tree of compassionate souls. My traits are the traits of my grandparents' parents, and their parents, and so on. The compassion I hold has been generationally passed down. My Grandma reminds me that my purpose is to never be questioned. That my heart beats for a reason. 

My Grandma’s love is also found in her fortification of female friends. I know all their names and I have known them my entire life. I have learned that life is defined by the relationships that endure. My Grandma Carole reminds me that she has the most wonderful friends. I am learning from her that female connections provide emotional housing, comfort, laughter, and so so much fun. My Grandma holds every relationship with gratitude as if they are made of glass. Every holiday she bakes cookies and brings them to each and every one of her friends. Every holiday she prepares gifts and cards and sends them to be delivered right on time. Through every hard time, she never fails to give her love to others. I remind her to also give love to herself. My relationship with my Grandma has only become stronger as I have gotten older. It has been the greatest pleasure of my life being raised by the most compassionate, driven, and selfless woman. Grandma, if you ever feel misunderstood. Don’t ever doubt that you are understood by me.