Best grandfather/grandpa

saracelica

saracelica

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saracelica
Talking with friends last night. All of us agreed moms dad was better then dad's dad

Thoughts
 
saracelica said:
Talking with friends last night. All of us agreed moms dad was better then dad's dad

Thoughts
Click to expand...
In my family, it is exactly and emphatically the opposite.

And I am proud to be named after him.

Everett B. Miller, III
Aka Skip
 
Dad’s dad was dead 40 years before I was born, so I have nothing to compare it to.

Wife’s side is similar.
 
I'm seeing a pattern here. My paternal grandfather died 15 years before my birth.
 
Dad's side was better by far. He lived life

My mother's father was a drunk. His wife was much better off when he passed.
 
I was closer to Dad’s dad. I knew him better.

I wonder which one my kids would choose…
 
I have grown up around my mother’s dad, so naturally feel closer to him, but they’re both great and I’m fortunate to still have them both.
 
saracelica said:
Thoughts
Click to expand...
Seems to me that it's a coin-flip and unless your gathering was larger than I'm imagining, your sample size is too small to be statistically significant.
 
I was a lot closer to my maternal grandfather…lived on the same farm site as a kid, spent a couple of summers and part of a winter working with him up in Alaska after he retired from farming. Every once in a while I mention something he told me that nobody else knows.

Both of my grandfathers were men worth emulating, and my mom has noted that a lot of the traits that my wife, daughters, and grandkids appreciate about me can be traced directly to my grandfathers.
 
Long story short...mom's dad way better.

My dad's father disowned him because my dad bailed his dad out with property tax foreclosure. A couple years later dad found grandpa hadn't paid anything on the mortgage in years. Dad called him out and grandpa said "I have only one son". A notorious BS'er who I have no idea how so many in the family put up with him. He didn't talk to his own sister for last 30 years of his life. He raced at Soldier field back when that was a thing. So I could tolerate conversations with him. But took everything he said with a grain of salt.

Was always much closer to my mom's side because of that. When moms mom passed, grandpa got remarried shortly after and my aunt drove a wedge between him and the rest of the family. "We'll find out what your doing, we'll talk to Harry and Vicky"... My mom's aunt and uncle who lived 2 blocks from him. He lived a few hours away and for 10 years had almost zero contact. Except I had 1 race at the Dells which was close to him. He showed up. He raced in the ARTGO series in the early 80's against Dick Trickle, Jim Sauter, Mark Martin, etc. Actually gave Jay Sauter his first ride. A friend had his 21st relatively close by him. I showed up unannounced. He was on the porch smoking. Which he had quit on my 1st birthday after he couldn't blow up a balloon. I didn't really recognize him. He didn't recognize me. He thought I was someone "selling meat of the truck". Ended up spending 6 hours hanging out. When my sister graduated college I knew he wouldn't come to her graduation because he thought my aunt would be there. My aunt and uncle weren't going to be there, no longer talked to them. While everyone was getting the house ready I drove 3 hours north. Turned my phone off. Only my dad knew my plan.

I walk in and he asks what I'm doing there. Came to get you, let's go. "oh yeah, I was supposed to go to that...I don't think I'm going your aunt and uncle are gonna be there". A couple hours pass. He finally realizes we don't talk to my aunt and uncle and says he's gotta get dressed. Comes out and says let's go, I'll follow you. I couldn't even drive him. Rolling down the driveway I see my mom absolutely livid. The most angry I had ever seen her, then grandpa comes rolling down the driveway 15 seconds later and she absolutely loves it. Until he passed they had a relationship again.

When he passed his second wife's family was there. She had passed a few years prior. The man was my grandma's caretaker. She was on dialysis pretty much since I was born. She never had a driver's license. When she passed he was lonely and unfortunately married someone who also was in poor health. But the other family didn't alienate him so they were close. After he passed his step daughters husband pulled me aside and let me know how proud he was and how he talked about me all the time. I was relatively composed until then.

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Dad’s dad passed when I was very young, have a small recollection of him, but not much. Mom’s dad was an ornery underachiever. Lots of good jokes and stories, but not much substance.
 
Mom’s dad and Dad’s mom died long before I was born. Dad’s dad died when I was six years old. I remember a couple of his visits; I thought he was pretty cool. I remember him sitting in the kitchen of our new house after we moved, smoking a cigarette. Don’t remember if I asked or if he offered, but he let me have a puff, much to the dismay of my mother. That’s all I remember until I was told he was dying.

I have a picture we found recently of him asleep in a chair with a baby on his chest… we’re pretty sure it’s me.

But yeah, the only grandparent that I really had any real adolescent/adult relationship with was Grandma (Mom’s mom).
 
I don't remember my grandfather on my dad's side, but from all accounts he was a good guy. Bit of a renaissance guy in his own way. Was the town fire chief for a while, avid hunter/trapper/fisherman, did woodworking and oil painting, ran a business in town. He was proud of working with his hands, and didn't mind getting them dirty. Kind of the opposite of my dad. To him, hands on things were something you hired people to do. So I've always missed having time with that grandfather. On mom's side, he was ok, but distant, cold even. Not mean, just not all that interested.

So to OP, to me the reverse.
 
To an extent, both of mine were anti-role models, but they did the best they could with the hands they were dealt, under unimaginably difficult circumstances. Their gift is that memory; a reminder that it is now us who are called to be the parents and grandparents we wished we'd had.
 
I never met my dad's parents, they both passed away before I came around.

Myself, as I got older I favor wearing khaki shirt and pants for normal everyday wear. I have a picture of my grandad and he is wearing khaki shirt and pants. My wife thinks I resemble him. About all I know of him is that he was a farmer, loved baseball, smoked like a chimney and was too old for WW I.

My mom's mom and dad were very old to me. (just a few years older than I am now) My grandad was an engineer in the planning department for the fledgling New Mexico Highway Department. He has a part in naming highway 666. Route 66 was an east-west road, and the governor at the time wanted some north-south highways. So the first north-south highway was called 166 on the planning map, that is it was the first highway to cross Route 66, then the second highway was called 266, and so forth until the last highway, 666. Somehow the planning names got transferred to the official road names and highway 666 was born. In 2003 the name was officially changed to Hwy 491.
 
I was very close with both, but definitely more so with mom's dad. Of many things he taught me how to drive when I was 13.
Once we got pulled over in a remote area during practice. The cop turned out to be ex security guy at the newspaper where my grandpa was the chief editor. He let us go and told me that I have the best grandpa who treated all his employees with utmost respect. I was so proud.
 
There's no "better," just different, and I loved them both dearly. Here's the simplest way to describe the difference: my maternal grandad taught me how to throw and catch a baseball, my paternal grandad taught me how to play chess and got me started with electronics.

Mom's dad was a disabled USN veteran, a chief and an airplane mechanic in WWII. He was career Navy, but sometime in the '50s he had a heart attack which ended that and gave him the disabled status. He was a big NASCAR fan, and had a motorhome that he and my grandmother used to follow the racing circuit all around the southeast.

Dad's dad was older and had a family, so he missed serving in WWII. He was a banker and had a long and successful career with Atlantic bank, which changed hands several times after he retired. He had a waterfront home on a creek that fed into the St. Johns river, and we fished together quite a bit.

Both were fine men who loved and raised good families. I'm proud of both and miss them both. I was very fortunate to have a complete set of grandparents until I was in my 30s.
 
I can’t see how the OP’s theory could be confirmed by survey. I think it would come out very close to fifty-fifty.

Out of my three daughters though, I think all my grandkids would pick me over their other grandpa, although one might be close to a toss up. Of course, I take them flying, fishing and make almost all of their ball games, recitals and the like.
 
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