Yes indeed you read that headline correctly. To clarify this, no, my Grandpa isn’t actually my father. Was he there for me in the stance as a father figure, yes he was. Did he do a great job? Obviously because look at me now…just jokes.
All jokes aside though, there isn’t one single moment I can remember when my Grandpa WASN’T there for me. From begging him to push me higher on the swings, to asking him to drive me to Starbucks before school, my Grandpa is always there for me.
My grandpa married my Grandma Yolanda in the year of 1996, not only becoming a husband, but a step-father to my mother and aunt. Although this wasn’t a biological father nor grandfather, little me never would have guessed that he wasn’t my blood related grandfather. This could only mean one thing, and that is he did the best job of not letting the label “step” intrude my childhood years. It wasn’t until I was maybe in my tween years that I came across that I had another grandpa who was biologically related to me. But even as a young child I knew that didn’t matter to me, I had already known who my real grandpa was. My Grandpa Burt was the grandpa who pushed me non stop on the swings, bought me ice cream when Grandma said no, picked me up from school when my stomach hurt, and lastly accompanied my single mother with my doctors appointments.
It’s not only the fact that my Grandpa Burt was there for me, but he stepped up to help my mother care for me. In no shape or form did he have to do so, but that again is living proof of what kind of man he is. I will always be grateful that I got lucky in this lifetime to be gifted a grandpa who also fulfilled the spot of a father. Who needs a father anyways when you can have a grandpa like mine?
My favorite memories with my grandpa would have to be the camping trip to Pismo we have taken every summer since I was a baby. My grandpa drives us up to a campground in Pismo where we camp for about a week. Everybody in my family knows how cautious and dramatic I am with certain drivers. The only person I can truly trust to drive is my grandpa. I never got motion sickness or worried we would get lost with my grandpa. On the other hand with my grandma…I keep my eyes wide open!
A little bit about my Grandpa Burt is that he is a huge fan of the Dallas Cowboys. Our garage and one room is literally cowboy themed. I am not kidding. My grandpa was also once a truck driver and did some work on the canals here in the Valley. He also is probably the best looking Grandpa here in Selma! I always laugh when people ask, “That’s your grandpa?” I remember when my boyfriend had seen my grandpa for the first time he told me, “Your grandpa is ripped.” This makes me laugh because my Grandpa does have big muscles and when I was little my grandpa told me he swallowed a big rock that got stuck in his bicep. Younger me actually believed that. I am still very gullible till this day because did I also swallow a smaller rock that’s stuck in my bicep?
As the years have flown by quickly, I have come to the great realization of how lucky I am that my grandma found my cousins and I the most loving, supportive, caring, and strongest grandpa to ever exist. The impact that my grandpa has left on me is truly one of a kind. You can replace anything else in this world, but not my grandpa. GO COWBOYS!
