Every day should be Grandparents Day

    I had the best grandparents. No, scratch that, I HAVE the best grandparents. In celebration of Grandparents Day, I decided to blog about them, but I know this isn’t going to go in the direction I was planning it to. Let me just let you in on a sad reality. Grandparents are not immortal. I know, it’s unfair. I can unfortunately confirm that it doesn’t matter how much love you share between you, one day, they will be gone. And even if you’re blessed to have them into your thirties, it stings. Even if they were in failing health, it doesn’t make it any easier to let go. Though they’re no longer physically present, I feel them around me all of the time.

I spent a lot of time with my grandparents when I was little. I pretty much spent probably the equivalent to half of my childhood in their care, going on walks through the neighborhood, sitting on the porch until sunset, eating Village Pantry glazed donuts that my grandpa ran out for, etc. Even when I got into my teenage years, I mostly had once a week visits for lunch and a store run. Sometimes the visits got less frequent, and I truly regret that looking back. I moved out of state after college, but I still spoke to my grandma daily, until she could no longer have phone conversations. When I visited home, I made it a point to visit as much as I could. They would stand on the porch and wave as we drove off before heading back to South Carolina and each and every time, I would bawl because I knew it might be the last time. But I kept going back year after year, until one time, it really was the last time.

Now, nearly five years after my grandma passed away, I still have her in my “favorite contacts” and I can’t bring myself to delete it. It’s like deleting the number would delete her, even though that’s silly. I think of so many questions I wish I had asked both of them. Mostly about their childhoods, and the tough stuff--marriage, religion, losses--stuff that when I was younger I thought I had plenty of time to ask. It didn’t occur to me until it was too late how much I really still didn’t know about who they were. 

I have amazing parents, but you’ll never convince me that anyone is or was a bigger fan of Amber than my grandparents. I was thinking just today about how my oldest son would probably be caught up to his great grandma in height by now, and how much my grandpa would have loved to get to know both of the boys. It is still hard to process that they’re gone, even though it’s been 9 years for grandpa and coming up on five for grandma. The only thing I can do is make their memories live on by reminiscing to myself, and sharing stories to the kids about how amazing they were, while also encouraging my sons to know their grandparents like I knew mine.

I plead to you, as a bereaved grandchild, if your grandparents are still living, spend as much time with them as you can. Ask the questions. Record their answers. Take pictures. I get it. Your friends are waiting. You have all the newest, coolest apps and games on your cell phone. You have an XBOX waiting, you have this and that and even though you love your grandparents, you’ve got a life of your own. I know that they don’t move as fast as they used to and stopping at the store takes so much longer than it used to. I know they don’t know how miserable it feels with the heat on in September when it’s 88 degrees inside their house or apartment and you’re sweating. But again, take it from me, they won’t be here forever.