When I was a child, I would go to my grandmother Nellie’s house. She was my father’s mother and the first saint that I knew. Her heart was so pure and sweet. She was patient and kind, graceful, always waiting and present to serve us with joy.

She was a woman filled with beautiful graces who touched my heart so deeply that as a child I always wanted to be near her. And it was at that moment, in those moments while spending time and playing in the neighborhood with other kids around her house, that I would lay in the grass of her front yard on long, hot summer days on the island. I would look up to the sky and through the sunlight falling through the trees and in the wind, the gentle summer breeze, I could feel the presence of God’s love in and all around me.

My heart was prepared by her grace to first begin to receive the mercies of God’s love in his presence. I knew God existed in those moments in the grass and that he, his love, and I would be taken by him in ecstasies at the age of six or seven. What more could I say? My upbringing was filled with the joy of family and those who loved me, those who gave their lives to me.

I shall speak of them more so in these upcoming days that they may be remembered by me, to honor them, to honor their love.

She was the best cook. She would make my cousin Richard and me, the most wonderful hamburgers with cheese and soft bun bread. I can smell the scent and see her in her kitchen at this moment.

I miss you, grandmother. Be by my side in my mission. I ask all of my parental descendants to be with me.

Tomorrow I shall speak of Germina. She was my mother’s mother. Oh, where Nelli was silent, Germina was full of fire and life and joy. We called her Mina. How many days, how many years we were together.

I must take their memories with me to make me stronger in my mission to remember my heritage, the roots of my life. For there was nothing that they would not do for me. My sister, my cousins, we were full of love and I thank you, God.

Life and love begin in the family.’