When I was only 7 years old, I lost my first grandparent. When you're a little kid and you experience something traumatic, your mind is clearly immature. However, I knew this was the first thing that impacted my life negatively.

Then I turned eight, and my next grandparent passed away. I remember it so vividly. I walked home that day from second-grade and I felt so old and so mature. Although I knew that I was meeting my dad at the usual spot, I knew I could handle the few blocks by myself. When I got to the spot my dad wasn't acting like my dad. My dad was tearful, unable to hold it together. That's when he told me my grandpa had passed away. I stood there, his arms holding me up, and took in the next loss.

I suddenly felt like I was used to this feeling. The feeling of seeing your parents so hurt, which was so wildly out of character for them. The feeling of a sense of sadness, sometimes extreme, but sometimes numbing.

When my next grandparent left me, I was a freshman in high school. I walked out of the car from lacrosse practice, and I saw my mom standing on the porch. This was typical for a sunny, spring day. However, something was different. My mom, usually so put together, looked small, her features so petite. That's when I knew my grandfather had passed away. As I held her, she felt weightless. I had never seen her so sad.

That's when I understood death in a different way.

It's the little things when you lose a grandparent. I remember throughout grade school I would hear about my classmates' grandparents picking them up from school and taking them out to lunch. I always yearned for that. I wanted to tell them that they were so lucky to still have that. It was something I always wanted so much.

Then, as I started to get older, my friends' grandparents would always be at my games. It was every sport I played: basketball, field hockey, lacrosse. They were always there. I wanted so badly for my grandparents to be there for me. I felt like for a lot of my friends and teammates, their grandparents being there was natural, nothing unexpected. If my grandparents ever made it to a game of mine, it would've been my most memorable game.

Even though I had my grandparents for a short period of time, I'm glad I had that time. I wouldn't have been able to sit with my grandfather, watching him excitedly as he painted his oiling paintings. If I hadn't had time with my grandma, I wouldn't be able to see how my mom acts exactly like her. The similarities between the two of them are the closest thing I have to her being here, but I'll take it. If I had never known my grandfather, I wouldn't know what it's like to be a hard worker. I would not have the work ethic I do today without knowing the type of mentality he had. I would have never experienced bringing him dinner all the time, him squeezing my hand and asking me about what was going on in my life. These all seem like little things, but I would do anything for one more moment with any of my grandparents.

So, I guess what I'm saying is, don't take it for granted. When your parents want you to visit your grandparents, do it. If you haven't heard from your grandma in a while, give her a call. I would do anything to just have my grandpa squeeze my hand one last time. It's kind of like the saying, "You don't know what you've got until it's gone."