When I was just learning to speak as a small baby girl, I sometimes reversed the syllables of the words I learned. So, when my parents taught me the word Grandma, my pronunciation sounded like “MEE-GAH” instead. My mother loved that it sounded like amiga, the Spanish word for friend. The name stuck. My grandmother’s new name was Miga, which was perfect, as she was a beautiful friend to me and to anyone she knew. My Miga was the absolute best grandmother and always made her grandkids feel loved. She never tired of spending quality time with me or investing in anything I loved. She showered me with art supplies and art lessons. She bought me any books that I wanted to read. She helped pay for my dance lessons. Any time I was in a play or recital, she traveled however far to be there and cheer for me. My grandmother inspired me as I was growing up and continues to inspire me today. I cherish the years I was able to spend with her because dementia took her from us too soon. Dementia causes a family to mourn their loved one twice, first as they fade from who they were, and then when they pass on. Who my grandmother was before dementia was truly admirable. Miga was married at 18 and a mother at 19. She raised three kids. When her kids were all in school, she went back to work while also attending college to earn a teaching degree that she used to teach Graphic Arts; first in public vocational high school and later to inmates in prison. She gave everything her all and even won the Teacher of the Year award for her state. She was a volunteering machine, participating in many of her church and community activities. Even in retirement, she voluntarily ran an after-school program and voluntarily ran a weekly support group for people with addictions. She rarely sat still and when she did, she was sleeping. She loved to cook, craft, sew, sing, play piano, travel, and host parties and events. Where Miga shined the most was her passion for helping individuals - friends, family, work associates, community acquaintances and even strangers. If she saw a need, she wanted to help, whether it was cooking a meal for a family in need, creating a friend’s wedding invitation, leading a clothing drive for the needy, or assisting at the local soup kitchen. My grandmother had a can-do attitude and always believed that there was a way to make things happen. As a young adult, my journey to a legacy of caring and service is just beginning, but journeys are accomplished one step at a time. I have been a volunteer at many places – helping at local theatre programs, senior living centers, churches, and animal shelters. Going forward in life, it is my hope to use my education and find employment in non-profit work. Even more than just working at charitable organizations, I want to embrace the way my Miga lived each and every average day by volunteering my time and simply remembering to care for the individuals around me. My grandmother had a heart to help anyone around her. There were so many people that she helped over the years, but one amazing example was a young girl hitchhiking on a country highway. The girl had run away from home but regretted it and my Miga gave her a place to stay, helped her contact her mother, and bought her a plane flight home. That was just one of many stories of her generosity, and I can only aspire to be the kind of woman she was. She was truly courageous and kind. The legacy of a great woman like my grandmother can feel like a lot to duplicate, but it can also be a great standard to pursue. Dianne Milligan, my Miga, was the genuine article. She was a fiercely strong and driven woman who lived a life committed to giving and caring. I aspire to be that kind of woman. As grandmothers often do, my Miga made me feel like I could do anything. If I really can do anything, what I want to do is replicate my grandmother’s legacy of giving to others. She is so very missed, but I am truly thankful for every day that I shared with my Miga, my friend.

When I was learning to speak as a small baby girl, I sometimes reversed the syllables of the words I learned. So, when my parents taught me the word Grandma, my pronunciation sounded like “MEE-GAH” instead. My family loved that it sounded like amiga, the Spanish word for friend. The name stuck. My grandmother’s new name was Miga, which was perfect, as she was a beautiful friend to me and to anyone she knew. I was an only granddaughter when I was growing up. Miga was the absolute best grandmother and always made me feel loved. She showered me with books, art supplies, and dance lessons. Any time I was in a play or recital, she traveled however far to cheer me on. As grandmothers often do, she made me feel like I could do anything during our many happy years together. 2018 was not one of our happy years. My amazing Miga became increasingly confused and declined terribly into hallucinations and would suddenly not recognize her husband of 56 years. Later that year, while my mom and I were visiting, things got worse. My heartbroken Granddad, who was Miga’s caregiver, had a massive stroke in front of us and our visit became funeral preparations instead. I was 13, and my beloved Granddad was suddenly gone and my living grandmother was no longer the person I had always known. Dementia can cause a family to mourn the loss of a loved one even while they are still living. My Miga became a completely different person, constantly anxious and afraid. My real Miga was not afraid. She was married at 18 and a mother at 19. She raised three kids. When her kids went to school, Miga went to college and earned a teaching degree that she used to teach Graphic Arts; first in public vocational high school and later to inmates in prison. She even won the Teacher of the Year award for her state. Even in retirement, she voluntarily ran an after-school program and an addictions recovery group. My grandmother rarely sat still. She loved to cook, craft, sew, sing, play piano, travel, and host parties. Miga had a can-do attitude and a heart to help everyone around her. One amazing example was a young girl hitchhiking on a country highway. The girl had run away from home but regretted it and my Miga gave her a place to stay and bought her a plane flight home. This is just one of many stories about her kindness, and I aspire to be a remarkable caring woman like she was. I feel so very blessed to have had my Miga for the years that I did. It’s my hope that my grandmother’s spirit now lives on in me. I am inspired to embrace her amazing qualities. I want to generously care for others the way she did. I will strive to embrace her courageous can-do attitude when things are difficult. And I pledge to continue sharing her beautiful creative spirit that she shared with others. My grandmother came to live with us after my grandfather died. It was a hard season, but we tried to find beautiful moments where we could. Through all the difficult moments, Miga never stopped loving me and would almost always smile for me, especially when we talked, sang, or danced together. Somehow the lady that I named “friend” found a way to stay my friend even in those dark days. She is so very missed, but I am truly thankful for every day that I shared with my Miga, my friend.