Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino-Hawaiian / Italian household - can be challenging at times…. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…..literally. It happened on a Thursday when my whole world changed. I will never forget how beautiful that day was; it was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. Now it may sound like nothing to any other person, but between my siblings and I, we knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was…… she started living with us about four years ago. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola for over five years and not only did she live in another state (Hawaii), but the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and, with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. Now when we saw the garage door was opened, we immediately ran inside the house. The house was quiet, which would be normal if it weren’t for the fact that my grandmother’s car was parked right outside our driveway. My little brother, Frankie, was the first person to find her… she was downstairs in her apartment and it looked like she was just unconscious, but little did we know. I immediately called the authorities and, before I knew it, police officials from all over were on my front lawn. The medical examiner, who did the autopsy on my grandmother, concluded that it was indeed a gunshot that had killed her and he also made the discovery that there was foul play involved. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turns out that it was my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. People, from what I’ve learned, make things up just so they can make sense of things and, unfortunately, it doesn’t make the situation any better. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help as many people as I can. And that’s why I want to be in the health field, to become a nurse whose compassionate yet knowledgeable about what they are doing. I believe that everyone has a destiny, mine is to better myself by becoming a nurse. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino-Hawaiian / Italian household - can be challenging at times…. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…..literally. It happened on a Thursday when my whole world changed. I will never forget how beautiful that day was; it was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. Now it may sound like nothing to any other person, but between my siblings and I, we knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was…… she started living with us about four years ago. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola for over five years and not only did she live in another state (Hawaii), but the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and, with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. Now when we saw the garage door was opened, we immediately ran inside the house. The house was quiet, which would be normal if it weren’t for the fact that my grandmother’s car was parked right outside our driveway. My little brother, Frankie, was the first person to find her… she was downstairs in her apartment and it looked like she was just unconscious, but little did we know. I immediately called the authorities and, before I knew it, police officials from all over were on my front lawn. The medical examiner, who did the autopsy on my grandmother, concluded that it was indeed a gunshot that had killed her and he also made the discovery that there was foul play involved. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turns out that it was my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. People, from what I’ve learned, make things up just so they can make sense of things and, unfortunately, it doesn’t make the situation any better. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help as many people as I can. And that’s why I want to be in the health field, to become a nurse whose compassionate yet knowledgeable about what they are doing. I believe that everyone has a destiny, mine is to better myself by becoming a nurse. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be. (Below is the digital art drawing of my dog Toby.)

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino-Hawaiian / Italian household - can be challenging at times…. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…..literally. It happened on a Thursday when my whole world changed. I will never forget how beautiful that day was; it was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. Now it may sound like nothing to any other person, but between my siblings and I, we knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was…… she started living with us about four years ago. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola for over five years and not only did she live in another state (Hawaii), but the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and, with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. Now when we saw the garage door was opened, we immediately ran inside the house. The house was quiet, which would be normal if it weren’t for the fact that my grandmother’s car was parked right outside our driveway. My little brother, Frankie, was the first person to find her… she was downstairs in her apartment and it looked like she was just unconscious, but little did we know. I immediately called the authorities and, before I knew it, police officials from all over were on my front lawn. The medical examiner, who did the autopsy on my grandmother, concluded that it was indeed a gunshot that had killed her and he also made the discovery that there was foul play involved. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turns out that it was my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and she her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. People, from what I’ve learned, make things up just so they can make sense of things and, unfortunately, it doesn’t make the situation any better. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help as many people as I can. And that’s why I want to be in the health field, to become a nurse whose compassionate yet knowledgeable about what they are doing. I believe that everyone has a destiny, mine is to better myself by becoming a nurse. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

Life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first, we were kinda nervous and skeptical since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), and the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that was anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian woman you would meet every day, she was a tough, independent, strong-headed individual - which I would, later on, realize how much of an impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake, we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my family's hearts broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again.

In life, especially coming from a Filipino/ Italian household - it can be challenging at times. Strengths and weaknesses are put on trial and beheld in front of the whole world, and in my case…literally. It happened on a Thursday, about five years ago, when my whole world changed. It was like any other typical day coming home from school. My siblings and I were walking home when we noticed something strange about our house… the garage door was opened. We knew something was not right. Our grandmother (my Mom’s Mom), who we all called Lola, was found murdered in our home. But before I get into the details, let me tell you who my grandmother was. At first we were kinda nervous and skeptical, since we haven’t seen Lola since she lived in another state (Hawaii), the only encounters we ever had were conversations on the phone. Since Lola lived in Hawaii, we didn’t really grow up with her being around us, and with my mom being an only child, she didn’t have any family that were anywhere near where we lived. Therefore, we only had my Dad’s family, growing up with only half of my heritage, which was Caucasian. And don’t get me wrong, I love my Dad’s side of the family, but it felt as though something was missing. It was a big change for all of us when it was time for Lola to move in with us. We soon learned that my grandmother wasn’t any typical Asian women you would meet everyday, she was a tough, independent, strong headed individual - which I would later on realize how much of impact she left behind - and it was difficult to adjust to a sudden change, but for my mother’s sake we tried to make it work. And for a while we had a routine; Lola would always give us life lessons, try to help us out when we get in trouble (which was most of the time), and simply try to make our routine easier. Lola helped me realize the other side of my culture; she helped me discover the part of me that was missing. It took five days to find out who did this to my grandmother; it turned out to be my grandfather on my father’s side who killed her. But before the police could question him, my grandfather took his own life out of guilt and shame, and the inability to face my mother who he treated as if she was his own daughter and her own father. We never really knew as to why he did it; some have speculated which created obnoxious rumors. We were like any typical family. Sure, we had our ups and downs but not to this extent. This experience has left me to grow up so much. The unknown has left my families hearts’ broken, and I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again but I know that both of my grandparents would want me to succeed in life by creating my own path, and the path I choose is to try to help people as much as I can. There’s a quote that Maya Angelou had once said that is dear to my heart, “I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” This quote holds so much meaning for me because it's a reminder of who I am, where I came from, and who I’m going to be.