Usually this blog is about my writing, but today all I want to write about is my grandmother, Guillermina White. She passed away a month ago and it's been tough to think of anything else since. I've heard it said that the unrecorded life is the life that disappears. As far as I know, my grandmother never kept a diary, and the only videos she made were on grainy silent film reels she took during trips to Puerto Rico and New York. Though she was a wonderful woman--the most loving, selfless person I've ever known--it would be easy for her life to disappear, to go unnoticed or forgotten by anyone besides those who knew and adored her. So I've decided to put her story in writing--as much of it as I know, anyway--to give her the immortality of words, the only kind I can give. It might seem long, but if you'd known her, you'd say it wasn't nearly long enough or anything close to what she deserves. Obviously, I have more to say about her than this brief biography. I loved her like crazy, so don't be surprised if my next post is about her as well. But for now, I give you the life and times (a small portion of them, at least) of Guillermina White. *Note: At the writing of this post, I changed the color of my blog to pink, her favorite color.