I have been lucky that up until I was 16, I was fortunate enough to not only have both sets of my grandparents alive, but also a special and deep relationship with each of the four.
There was Grandma and Grandpa on my mom’s side, and Connie and Ricardo on my dad’s side. Two sets of grandparents, two entirely different worlds, yet both shaped me in ways I’m still uncovering. My parents couldn’t have come from more different backgrounds: My dad grew up in Bogotá, Colombia, while my mom was born in Omaha, Nebraska, later raised in Connecticut.
Growing up, my family moved constantly. London, Bogotá, Toronto. New schools, new homes, new routines. It was exhilarating but exhausting. And yet, through it all, Grandma and Grandpa were a constant, their Connecticut home a haven of familiarity. Summers in New England meant endless trips to the aquarium with Grandma and golf lessons with Grandpa. Their house, once my mom’s childhood home, became my own. Even now, the number 65 sends me down a memory lane of chocolate chip ice cream sandwiches, scorching summer tennis matches, and the splash of poolside laughter as Grandma documented every attempt to make the biggest cannonball.
But more than the fun, they instilled in me the power of compassion. In the ‘90s, they founded Connecticut Friends of Bosnia to help refugees from the Bosnian War, turning their home into a place of welcome and support. They showed me that kindness isn’t just a value – it’s an action. My Grandma, especially, taught me that even the smallest voice can create waves. After the Sandy Hook school shooting, she became a fierce advocate for gun reform. Her unwavering dedication reminds me every day that speaking up matters.
From my Grandpa, I learned patience, perseverance, and the value of hard work. He believed in sticking with something, whether it was a project, a goal, or even a challenging day on the golf course. Golf wasn’t just a sport to him, but it was a lesson in discipline, focus, and persistence. He also inspired my career choice: His steadfast belief in my abilities encouraged me to pursue a path in law, teaching me that success is built on both skill and unwavering self-confidence.
On the other side of the equator, my Colombian grandparents provided a different but equally profound kind of guidance. I spent nearly six years of my life in Colombia, where I struggled at first. My Spanish was shaky, and the culture shock was real. But Ricardo was my biggest cheerleader, helping me with math homework and indulging my endless curiosity about books. An aviation fanatic, he’d take me to the rooftop of their apartment, where we’d watch planes take off through his binoculars. To an eight-year-old girl, weekends with mi abuelo were magic. He believed that knowledge and being able to connect with people was one of the greatest gifts you could give yourself, and I carry that mindset with me every day.
Connie, on the other hand, nurtured my love for my childhood interests. She saved her best earrings and passed-down necklaces for me, knowing how much I loved jewelry. She taught me to embrace joy, to find delight in the small things, whether it was dressing up my dolls, eating my favorite cookies after school, or laughing at photobooks of Papá as a teenager. She also taught me about resilience. As a woman who lived through Colombia’s decades-long conflict, she witnessed loss, instability, and hardship, yet she never let it harden her. She showed me that true strength isn’t about shutting the world out, it’s about choosing to love, to forgive, and to move forward even when it’s difficult.
Both sets of grandparents shaped different parts of who I am, weaving together my dual identity in ways I’ll always cherish.
Now, our relationships have shifted. Ricardo lost a long battle with cancer in 2020, and my Grandma passed in April 2024 after years of chronic illness. Grandpa, now nearby, is someone I visit often, though the house that once felt like my childhood home is no longer ours.
But one bond has only grown stronger. Connie is now my go-to person, the first call I make when I achieve something big or when I feel lost and need advice. As the eldest of five siblings, she’s no stranger to problem-solving, approaching challenges with a level of clarity I can only dream of in my twenties. She is love, forgiveness, and resilience personified: A woman shaped by Colombia’s decades-long conflict yet still full of warmth and optimism.
Through all their wisdom and love, my grandparents have given me the greatest gift – the knowledge that no matter where I go, I carry their lessons, their stories, and their unwavering belief in me. They taught me that home is not just a place but the people who shape you, and that no matter where life takes me, I will always have their wisdom woven into my heart.