What does Father’s Day mean to me? When I think about it honestly it brings to mind my Grandpa. From the time I was small he was like a father to me since mine was well, an ass. My Grandpa would pick me up from school when I was sick and take care of me, he would take me to all of my doctor appointments, make me cinnamon toast for breakfast and make sure to sprinkle the cinnamon all the way to the edge so I would eat the crust.

I remember the year I was in 3rd grade my Grandma was very sick and in and out of the Hospital at the beginning of her battle with Chrone’s Disease. That Christmas my Grandpa when to the store and bought me a doll. Now, that was completely out of character for him. My Grandma would make and buy our presents throughout the year and all he had to do was wrap them since she couldn’t be home that year. But, for some reason that year it was different for him. Maybe he thought that it would help me deal with what was going on at the point. I will never know now but, I know that he never picked out a present for any of his 4 children or his 4 grandchildren but me.

I also remember one summer my Grandma suggested that my Grandpa take me to the movies since it was my summer vacation and we were just kind of hanging out at home. My Grandma wanted us to go see Sleeping Beauty I think it was but, when we got there Grandpa decided that we should see Jurassic Park instead. So we sat there eating buttery popcorn and watching all the dinosaurs and the gore. When the movie was done and we went home we didn’t tell my Grandma what we really saw.

My Grandpa was always there when I was growing up. There to help me, give me advice and to love me. When I was around 15 or so we started noticing signs of Dementia. Just small things like forgetting peoples names, not remembering to set the VCR or to wake my Grandma up at certain times. By the time I was 16 he was diagnosed with Alzhiemer’s. It was so hard to see my Grandma have to take care of the man that had always taken care of her.

By the time Kidlet was a toddler he didn’t remember current people, places or things but he always called Kidlet “That Girl”. The way that he cared for her we knew that he thought she was me. By the time the next year rolled around he had regressed too much to stay at home any longer. When he went into the nursing home it broke everyones hearts. He used to just lay in his bed and listen to the music that my Grandma had brought him. The music was the only thing that calmed him then probably because it had been a huge part of his life.

In September 2007 my Grandma was told that he was not doing well. His muscles had already atrophied so he couldn’t move much anymore and he was having a hard time eating. He was placed on a feeding tube but he started to get worse and had problems breathing. He had a DNR so he was moved to a Hospice floor. The whole family gathered at the Hospice and in October 2 minutes before I walked into his room with Kidlet he passed away.

It was horrible to know that he was gone and just a shell was left. I know that the Alzhiemer’s had already taken him before but for him to die meant he was truly gone. That was one of the saddest days of my life. Getting through the depression that struck me then has been hard but, I’m making it.

So when I see the words Father’s Day I will always think of my Grandpa. The unconditional love and caring that he gave me changed my life. He was what a real man was supposed to be.

Grandpa, I love you.