Reflections on my grandmother

 My Chinese grandmother
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I just spent a glorious weekend in the desert with the closest girlfriends in my life. The people who truly make me feel free and loved. We are a naked-in-the-sunshine-latenight-dance-party-circle-check-in-belly-laughing kinda group. In the midst of this I was thinking of my grandma, my Yen Yen. She died on Halloween two years ago. I loved her very much and felt a wonderful connection to her despite our language barrier. She owned a sewing factory in San Francisco Chinatown. She was a strong business woman, always tried to find a good deal, fed everyone she knew, and she was a jewelry lover. While her tastes were for gold and jade, she proudly wore a ring I made her until the end.

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The ring I made my grandma

Reflecting over this weekend, I keep coming to the conclusion that, my goodness what a different life I’m living from hers. I truly honor how hard she worked to provide for her family to make it so that my dad and his siblings and then myself and my siblings and cousins can live a more abundant and free life. I have no idea how to spell the way that we said “I love you” to each other in Chinese, so I love you Yen Yen.

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My Chinese grandmother


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