Family Was Built Into Everyday Life
When I was a kid, family wasn’t something we had to plan for. It was built into the rhythm of life. My parents lived right next door. My grandparents lived just down the road. On Sundays, the house filled with voices and the smell of Greek cooking. My Yaya would bake cookies or prepare stafava, a meal that felt less like dinner and more like a celebration. My Papou would tell stories, Bloomberg Radio murmuring in the background, cigar smoke curling in the air.
That was my inheritance: closeness. The table was always full, and so was my heart.
My Son’s Different Inheritance
My son’s life looks different. He never met his paternal grandparents, they passed before he was born. He’ll never know the warmth of my Papou’s kitchen or the sound of my Yiaya’s prayers in the front pew of church. For a few years, he had his maternal grandmother, his Yaya Becky. She moved across the country to Philadelphia just to be near him. They baked together, played together, loved each other fiercely. But in late 2024, we lost her suddenly to cancer.
Now, the grandparents he has left his Gagi and Grandma live in California. They visit twice a year, and those visits are wonderful. But they aren’t the same as walking next door, or gathering around the table every Sunday.
Why Grandparents Day Matters
And that’s why Grandparents Day matters so much to me.
It’s not about gifts. It’s not about Hallmark cards or flowers ordered online. It’s about connection carving out intentional time to remind the people we love that they matter, that they belong, that they’re woven into the story of our lives.
What We Actually Remember
I think back to my own childhood, and what I actually remember. It wasn’t the things my grandparents gave me. It was the way my Yaya’s cookies tasted right out of the oven. It was the way Papou would laugh when he caught a broker miscalculating a commission. It was the quiet devotion of my other Yaya, sitting in church long after everyone else had left. Those moments were small, ordinary, but they lasted.
That’s the gift grandparents give us presence. And it doesn’t have to fade, even if miles or years separate us.
Presence Is the Only Gift That Lasts
Grandparents Day is a chance to honor that presence, to strengthen it, to choose it. Maybe it’s a phone call. Maybe it’s a Zoom storytime. Maybe it’s cooking the same recipe on opposite sides of the country and sharing the meal through a screen. Maybe it’s simply saying, “I love you, and I’m grateful you’re in my life.”
For those of us in Gen X, raising kids who may not know the grandparents we grew up with, the day is also a reminder: don’t wait. Capture the stories, ask the questions, write down the recipes, record the voices. Because one day, those things will matter more than we can imagine.
My Wish for My Son
I wish my son could experience what I had family just next door, Sunday dinners that lasted all afternoon. He can’t. But he can still have connection, if we’re intentional about it. And that’s what Grandparents Day is really about.
It’s about showing up. Being present. Creating memories now, while we still can.
Because in the end, that’s the only gift that lasts.
Memory Mission
After reading, jot down one story you’d love to share with your grandkids this week. Start with: “I remember when …”