Two Grandmas

I am blessed to be biracial. Throughout my childhood it was an identity marker that I was very proud of. As a teenager it was sometimes confusing. I learned to be more aware of my position, and my ability to pass through two worlds. As a young adult this ability became more pronounced. Now, as a bonafide adult, what I can mostly say is that sharing two ethnic and racial identities is part of how I see the world, in pairs. The reason I write about this is because I love both parts of myself, and have spent time looking up both parts of who I am. The measure of this has been made more meaningful this weekend. My grandma passed, my one remaining grandma. I had two grandmas growing up, living on opposite ends of the United States. Their characters and their personalities have been passed down to me, and I cherish their differences and their similarities. From them, I learned to be generous, and kind spirited. I learned to listen to my own spirit and my soul. I learned song and how to play the mandolin. I learned what strong-willed women look like. I learned I am Japanese. I learned I am Irish. I learned that a grandma can have long beautiful hair. I learned how to frost a cake. I learned to use chopsticks. I learned how to crochet. I learned what prayer looks like, and how different it can look from one person to another.

Thank you, my two grandmas. I love you.

My two grandmas: Annabelle Blalock, and Kikue Asato