Darkness engulfed the morning sky as I watched my parents back out of the gravel driveway in our black 2006 Nissan Xterra. Every bit of separation anxiety built up in my 3-year-old body wept for my parents to not leave for work. My Nana held me close, warm bottle of milk in hand, hushing my cries. “Tulog ka na, anak ko (Sleep now, my child),” my Nana sighed as picked me up from our front doorstep. Alas, this weeping was just a part of the morning routine, and it was yet another day for Nana to take care of her toddler apo (grandchild). During the height of my parents’ financial vulnerability, my Nana devoted herself to upholding the challenge of taking care of me while my parents worked their nine-to-fives. Little did she know, her efforts would eventually blossom into a worthwhile passion for her toddler granddaughter. From mornings characterized by the aroma of chicken Saimin, to bubbly Johnson’s Baby baths, to afternoons spent countless hours of Teletubbies on the television; being raised by my Nana was filled with moments of bliss. Though, this didn’t make my Nana unassailable to adversities— temper tantrums, endless cluttering, careless accidents— all of these could attest to the burden that was my toddlerhood. Despite all the stress that came with nurturing a young toddler, my Nana persevered. In the years spent in our daily routine until my parents and I made our departure from my Nana’s home, I grew to admire her ability to nurture. The time and effort my Nana put into taking care of me— it was her way of sharing her love. I wanted nothing more but to be like my Nana. Unfortunately, even the most love in this world isn’t enough to overwhelm the harsh reality of aging. With every Saturday visit to Nana’s home, rheumatoid arthritis ate away at her ability to walk independently, holding the nearest wall with each step. I would crouch to her side as she rested on her plastic brown chair and I would hold her hand. It was frail, and smelled like Johnson’s baby powder— my youth spent with her is instantly brought back to me. I want nothing more but to be like you someday— someone like you for you, or another. My Nana may be facing the consequences of old age, but I know that her legacy continues to live through me: her love has guided me toward a career in nursing. During my senior year of high school, I had the privilege to study under Hawai’i Pacific Health’s Medical Assistant program. Through this program, I was able to introduce myself to the medical field thoroughly; enduring mentorship by other medical professionals (i.e. instructors, nurses, doctors, etc.), worked up to 225 externship hours in Family Practice and Women’s health, and earn a medical assistant certification shortly after graduating high school. Working in family medicine solidified my interest in working with children and their families— I cherished the challenges and the impact I can have on children’s health and upbringing. Because of my experiences and Nana, today, I diligently work towards earning a Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing at Hawai’i Pacific University. Working towards a career in nursing is my love letter to my Nana. As I stand in between the present and my boundless dreams, I am determined to work towards a reality where I can incorporate my Nana’s love in my everyday career as a pediatric ICU registered nurse.