My grandma had a very full life, only highlights of which will ever be known to me. I've pieced together a modest patchwork of snapshots from her life which shape my overall perception of the woman I feel in my bones and blood. I know she played softball as a young woman, contributed to WWII as a "Rosie Riveter," and was devoted to her children and grandchildren. I only knew her in the autumn of her life, when dementia began to take over her brain. Even then, she was very loving to me, and I'll cherish our private moments together, walking by the pond as I talked about my day at school or listening as she told me of her experiences and life lessons. I even carry with me the negative experiences from her life, taking her pain and arming myself for my own life. Around the time of her death, a time in which I learned more about her, I felt and saw a lot of her qualities reflected in me, and I began to consider humans not as unique individuals but more like seeds, which begin from the ground, grow, and flower to drop more seeds, which carry genetic and evolutionary information to be passed on to next offspring. I carry with me the heart of my grandmother, and I hope to carry on her memory and efforts so that her spirit will continue to touch and influence the people who pass through my own life. And all the while I will endeavor to enjoy every minute of the journey, and remember her simple philosophy: "Just give me something pretty to look at."
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