Member-only story
My Immigrant Grandfather Taught Me To Love America
I owe everything to him. He taught me to dream big and work hard to achieve all my goals.
My grandma raised me as a child because my mother lost custody of me after she allowed her then-husband to abuse me. As a widow, she was always worried about a positive male role model. She didn’t want me to have “daddy issues.”
The thing is, I never thought I was missing anything. Grandma was a mom to me. She still is. When I think about my father figure, it would be her father, my great-grandpa.
He was a constant in my life. He loved his family fiercely. He wanted us all to succeed. And he was never short on giving advice to us. After all, he lived an incredible 104 years. He had tons of life experiences to share.
Grandpa’s Roots
When my grandma was 6, a fire destroyed their house. At that time, grandpa had to decide if he wanted to rebuild their home in England, where they lived, or move to America. He moved his family to live with his sister in Denver, Colorado.
It wasn’t easy for him, but he always provided for his family. When he first came to America, he worked as a milkman. You know, the early 1920s milkmen that would deliver glass milk bottles. Well, that was his job.
