When my grandfather passed away Wednesday, I became grandparentless. While I really lost Pop-pop several years ago to Alzheimer’s, I am now officially without any grandparent. I knew this day would come, but I guess I thought I would be a little older — and a little wiser. And, I secretly hoped all of my grandparents would live to attend my future wedding.
But, here I am. My dad’s mother passed away when I was 9 years old. My mom’s mother passed away when I was 12 years old. My dad’s father passed away when I was 18 years old. Honestly, I thought my last grandparent, my Pop-pop was holding out for me. He was going to make it to my wedding. I just knew it. But, God had other plans, and I knew it was time. I’m officially missing my tall, handsome, strong supporter.
And, I’m not really sure what being grandparentless means. I’m sure a lot of 20-somethings go through this. While it’s one of the most depressing parts of growing up, I guess this shows that I’m getting a little older.
I like to think my grandfather’s death is some sort of sign that he thinks I’m strong enough to face the world without holding onto one of his giant hands. When I say giant, I’m really not exaggerating either. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone with larger hands than my Pop-pop.
While he was big and strong, he was the most caring man I’ve ever known, too. Sometimes these two characteristics joined forces. Once, my Pop-pop knocked down his own bathroom door, because I had accidentally locked myself inside and went into a panic. Of course, my grandmother was cheering him on to do it. She also didn’t like when I was upset. He saved me. He frequently did. No matter how trivial the fear. So, now that I’m grandparentless, I guess I will have to knock down my own bathroom doors. I’m sure God wouldn’t mind sending me a little Pop-pop-power once in a while. Right?