As we get older and learn more about ourselves, we begin to realize and understand the different types of love people provide for us. A mother's love is 100 times different than a brother's love, a girlfriend's love radically different and unique in a way opposite of a father's love. The common denominator it just that; it's love, yet it flexes and molds itself into a hundred different forms -- all nourishing, gratifying, and secure to us. But nothing compares to a grandmother's love. Or at least mine.

A grandparent's love is interesting. You are somehow a product of them, and they watch their children turn into moms and dads. They go from parents to Pop Pop and Mom Mom. The innate love a grandparent has for you -- as we know they are doting and beautiful souls -- is merely extension of themselves and their child. You are a third party and product, and as you grow, so does your grandparent's love for you.

My grandmother was always on my side. And to say I am an extension of her and my mother would almost be an understatement. I am who my grandmother would have been in 2016 and my mom is who I will most likely grow to be. Of course, I could not be more grateful. But my grandmother was always on our side, against my mom, against the world. We could do no wrong. And even though my small army of siblings have proven wrong several times, she relentlessly believes and sees the good. This is the wondrous thing about our grandparent's old souls -- they just wish to see the good. They have seen enough harm and damage to the world, some of our grandparents living from the 1930's to now. A grandparent wants to believe the pure and good in you, see the things you can do. And this makes me believe in it myself.

A grandmother's love -- or a Pop pop's, or a Meme's -- is warm, it's comforting. It's a big and cozy knee to sit on, it's long car rides and sleep overs. It's the feel of my grandmother's nails scratching me back so lightly until I doze off, squeezed up in a twin bed. It's the way we laugh, the way her smile and joy is infectious. She's more dangerous than I'm describing her, though. She is feisty. Believe me, she's actually an effing firecracker. Especially when she's got a vodka tonic in her hand. Especially when it's her third.

But she is warm, she is supportive, she is happy. She is one of the strongest people I know, passing that strength onto my mother who needed it and used it like a sword; now passing it onto me. I love my grandmother, as I'm sure you love your own, because I am her. She is my blood, my family, my lifeline. She makes me proud to be a woman of my family's name, she and my mother are figures I desire to be. When I was young, my grandmother would take her time helping me into the car, getting me into my seat. Now, it is me that helps her. And I wouldn't have it any other way. She took care of me for 19 years, and now it's our turn to take care of her. There is no better gift you can give to a grandparent than the reciprication of love; a phone call, a letter, a small kiss. Remember to love your grandmother the way she loves you. Because one day, the tables will turn yet again, and she will be in the heavenly place to watch and look after you once more.