I’ve never met my father.

Growing up playing sports, it was always tough seeing my teammates and their dads throwing a baseball or playing basketball together. My mom is the best mom in the world, but when I was younger I always craved the support and attention of a father figure.

I never ended up throwing a baseball or playing basketball with my grandfather, but he gave me everything I ever wanted; a role model to look up to.

As I pursue a degree in sports journalism one memory always sticks out in my mind. When I was little I’d often stay at my grandparent’s house. When I would wake up, my grandfather and I would read the box scores in the daily newspaper.

I had no clue who any of the players were let alone what an RBI meant, but the action remains my fondest memory. Every sports story I write today, I think of my grandfather and that maybe one day some other kid could have the same experience as me.

My grandfather was a die-hard Red Sox fan. Every night I stayed there we would stay up and watch the game. My grandmother always brought us ice cream or candy, as long as we ate our apples first. Again, I had no idea as to what was happening on the screen, it was just nice spending time with my grandfather. My love of sports grew because of the love and time he put into me.

I remember collecting quarters from every state, getting excited each time we found a new one. Eventually, we filled out our board and finally achieved our goal.

Little things like watching baseball, collecting quarters or even going to the post office with my grandfather showed me what it meant to be a man and what it means to be a father.

My grandfather passed away almost four years ago. He suffered vascular dementia for most of my adult life. At times he wouldn’t remember my name, but would always ask if I was driving yet; I wasn’t. We would still watch football together on Sundays, but it was me knowing what was going on and not him.

I cherish those moments just as much as I do my childhood. I was spending time with a man I had looked up to my whole life. It didn’t matter what we were doing, just that we were together.

During my grandfather’s last Christmas, I was the one who was able to wheel him back to his room and tell him I loved him. It was the greatest Christmas gift I’ll ever receive.

My grandfathers 86th birthday would’ve been March 31. Recently, my family and I looked over some slides of him growing up and his life with my grandmother. They were married for over 50 years and it showed me what true love really was.

If you were to ask me what I want to be when I grow up I wouldn’t say rich or famous, I would say I want to be just like my grandfather.

Happy Birthday, Papa, the lessons you taught me will never be forgotten. The memories I have will live on forever.