My grandfather became my entire world after I lost my parents when I was just a year old. Seventeen years later, I pushed his wheelchair through the doors of my prom. One girl who had never been kind to me had plenty to say about that. When Grandpa spoke, the whole room held its breath.
I was just over a year old when flames tore through our house. I don’t remember it, of course.
Everything I know comes from the stories Grandpa and the neighbors told me later: it started with an electrical fault in the middle of the n
People sometimes ask what it was like growing up with a grandpa instead of parents, and I never know how to answer that. Because to me, it was just life.
Grandpa packed my lunches with a handwritten note tucked under the sandwich. He did it every day from kindergarten through eighth grade until I told him it was embarrassing.
He taught himself to braid hair from YouTube and practiced on the back of the couch until he could do two French braids without losing track. He showed up to every school play and clapped louder than anyone.
He taught himself to braid hair from YouTube.
