In loving memory of my grandparents, Nanny and Papa.

Originally, this was going to be one long post, but after giving it some thought, I've decided that it'd be best to break everything down into smaller parts. That way, I don't get overwhelmed and lose focus. There's a lot I want to say about my grandparents and there are so many memories that I've made with them. I feel like the most productive approach to this would be to share my memories of them piece by piece, in a much more organized, focused manner.

With that said, I want to preface all of this by establishing my grandparents in the family tree as well as my relationship with them.

Their names are Dorothy and Joe. They're the parents of three children. My uncle Joey, named after Papa, is the oldest. My late aunt and godmother, Patricia, is the middle child. My mom is the youngest.

Ever since I was born, Nanny and Papa have been a huge, constant part of my life. There are plenty of pictures and videos of me with them as a baby, as a toddler, a prepubescent, and a teenager. Every summer, Mom would take my older brother Eric and I down to Florida to go visit them. At first, we'd stay with them for a week. That week became several before we finally settled on spending a month with them.

These summer vacations were the highlight of my childhood. We did so much together. We played games, two of the main ones being Uno and Rummikub. We lounged at the community pool. Whenever we had it to ourselves, we'd jump into the water and race each other on inflatable tubes. Papa would buy us week-long passes to theme parks. Nanny and Papa even took us on some cruises.

Throughout the years, we've made many memories together. Sure, I've had some rough patches with them, but those were very few and far between. I've had so much fun with them. We've shared many laughs and smiles. They've given me so much love and joy. They opened up the world to me and gave me an annual escape from my daily struggles. I'll always be grateful to them for everything aforementioned.

Now, I'm going to take a bunch of trips down memory lane. If this piques your interest somehow, you're more than welcome to join me. I'll do my best to allow you glimpses into my life with them. I'll paint small pictures so that you'll get a sense of the bigger picture. I do hope you enjoy this passion project of mine. Thank you for reading.

As much as I enjoyed playing Rummikub, my favorite game to play with my grandparents was Uno. If it was a nice day out, we'd play out in the sunroom. If not, we'd play in the kitchen. Whenever it rained at the community pool, we'd play at a plastic table underneath an awning as a means of passing the time until the storm passed.

Both of them cut, shuffled, and dealt the cards with the finesse of professional card dealers.

Whenever Papa put down the first card or changed the color, he said a catchphrase for each one. For blue, he'd sing, "The sky is blue. How old are you?" For green, he'd say, "Green-go." For red, he'd say, "Red dead." And for yellow, he'd say, "Mellow yellow."

Nanny and Papa both had a different approach to playing the game with my older brother and I. Nanny went easy on us. She didn't have it in her to use any of the Draw Two or Draw Four cards against us. Papa, on the other hand, didn't have such qualms. He showed us no mercy. He'd slap those cards down onto the pile with a flourish and gave a mischievous chuckle as we drew two or four cards from the deck.

The more I played the game, the more I followed his lead. After winning a lot of games, he dubbed me the Uno Queen.

What can I say? I learned from the best.

As a kid, I got a kick out of Nanny reprimanding Papa whenever he got too mischievous. He'd do or say something out of line and she'd scold him and reel him back in. It wasn't until recently that I discovered that a lot of those times were just an act. Mom pulled back the curtains and revealed that Nanny would find reasons to scold him because she noticed how amused my brother and I would get every time he got in trouble with her. Although it was at his expense, Papa was a good sport about it. I imagine he played along for our sake.

It was like having a free, front row seat to a two-man improv comedy show. Papa would play the funny man, grappling with flimsy excuses to justify his behavior. Nanny would play the straight man or rather, woman, combating him with sound reasoning and ultimately putting him in his place. Together, they worked as a team in order to make my brother and I laugh.

This was just one of the many ways they made us happy.