My Grandma’s name was Mary, and every time I would see her as a child, she would secretly whisk me away to give me 20 cents. “Shhhh” she would say, as she rolled coins into the palm of my hand, and like clockwork she would wake at 5:30am just to be up ready to make breakfast. She was famous for always asking “What do you want for breakfast? Heinz baked beans or spaghetti?”

I was 14 years old when she passed away. I wasn’t into wearing black back then, and I certainly didn’t that perfect little black dress to wear to her funeral. Instead I winged it, but for reasons of charm, sophistication and respect, even at young age I tried my best to pull it off. Today I wear my grandma’s brooch and the dress I wish I was wearing. An outfit that she would do her proud, with a hidden 20 cents included.