Yep. My dads parents only died in the last 10 years and I am early-mid 40s. I was closest to them. Very good people, who admire to this day. Where dad came from, I have no idea.

My mom's dad died back in 2011 or so I guess. I wasn't close to him. He and my grandmother divorced before I was born, he didn't live around and made very few attempts to see us and my mom made a few attempts to go see him. I think I met him 3-4 times my entire life and I was already in my early almost mid 30s when he died.

My mom's mom is still kicking. I don't see her much. She isn't a terrible person. Just a little manipulative and likes to guilt trip people instead of just saying what she wants.

My mother's father died before I was born.

My father's father (Pa Pa) was a great man. He built tanks in WW2 in Detroit. He came home after the war and opened a garage.

He once shot a man for stealing his boat and then after the man pulled back up to shore, Pa Pa took him to the hospital.

Pa Pa hired a black mechanic for the garage. The local KKK in Buford came to burn a cross in Pa Pa's yard. Pa Pa pulled out a Stevens 12G pump and "pumped" the first round into the chamber. Someone threatend Pa Pa and another KKK guy spoke up and said "Hey, that's ______! He will no shit shoot us!" They then went across Buford Hwy and burned the cross in a pasture.

We would ride around for hours looking for crows to shoot. I think it was more to teach me history and life lessons.

He was a loving and caring man. I miss him.

I can remember my great great grandfather. He was born in the late 1870's and his sons fought in WWI.

I grew up with both paternal grandparents. My paternal grandfather is the one who taught me how to shoot and hunt. My grandfather died when I was 26. I got to spend his last 2 weeks alive with him in the hospital. He had a series of small heart attacks and they kept him there for monitoring. What killed him was a stroke brought on by heart catheter  surgery a day prior to me leaving. I got to say goodbye before the stroke and I left for home. I got a call from my parents 2-3 hours later that he had a stroke and to come back. He died 2 days later. My paternal grandmother died late 2019 in her 90’s. Pancreatic cancer…her 3rd bout with cancer.

I only saw my maternal grandparents every so often. My mother had a tough life with them, so I guess she didn’t want to see them too much. She regretted that when her mother had a stroke and died of complications of the stroke. Since I was their first grandchild, I was the favorite. My aunt and uncle always pointed it out in arguments with my mom and grandmother. Oh well…  Like the great Ricky Bobby always said “if you ain't first, you’re last”.

All of my grandparents survived into my adulthood, I was a pall bearer for each of them. Not a great way to remember them but that occurred to me one day, maybe a circle of life thing.

One died after my parents were married but before I was born, the other attended my oldest's first birthday party.

Kharn

My paternal grandfather died when I was 9. Paternal grandmother when I was 31. Maternal grandfather died when I was 40, maternal grandmother lived with us until she died when I was 50. My oldest grandsons knew their great, great grandmother. My maternal great grandfather died when I was 20, maternal great grandmother when I was 28. She got to see 4 great, great grandchildren born before she died.
I miss them all!

Spent a lot of time all grandparents as an adult. Met and remember 2 great grandmothers and was have pics of me with one great grandfather.

Paternal grandfather passed away before I was born.

Maternal grandfather passed  almost a year ago

My Dad's father died from a car wreck when I was a kid, and my Mom's father died when I was 50.

My mother's father dies well before I was born, in a tragic situation, he was described by my Uncle as a phenomenal shot and amazing hunter, wish I had known him, but will meet him some day, till then RIP Grandpa Chet.

My father's dad was born in 1905 in a tent in a mining camp in WV. He was a welder during the war, and an avid coin collector. He was a great grandfather, with the butterscotch candy next to his recliner, lol. I remember sitting in his basement looking at antique coins with him, as he would explain the history of them. He passed when I was a teenager. Miss you Granpa George cant wait to see you again, love you.

Paternal? No, grand pa died when I was a toddler and grandma died when I was in grade school.

Maternal grand ma died when I was around 12.

I was around 28 when my maternal grand pa passed.  I didn’t get to see him much, they lived on the opposite coast.  He did make a visit and he and my mom travelled a couple states away to visit RI where they lived prior.

My maternal grandfather died when I was 24.  He was an environmentalist long before it was popular.  Great naturalist too. Knew every plant and animal in the forest and most of the rocks we came across.  Phenomenal eye for spotting flint artifacts while walking across plowed fields.  Left me a small box with various points and scrapers he had come across.  Some are over 5,000 years old and some archeologists that I showed them too said some of them look European.  They were both looking at each other kind of strangely when I told them where my grandfather found them as they do not fit well into the picture.  He never picked up all he found preferring to leave most of them for later generations to find.  

My paternal grandfather was born in 1872.   He died in 1946 three days after my parents were married.  (I was born in 1951.)  He was twice married.  First wife died and they had two children.  Second wife was much younger than he was and they had 6 children.  He was 56 when his last child was born.  

I am 73 and three generations of my father's lineage covers presidents from U.S. Grant to whoever is controlling Biden.  Or some 162 years (and counting) of American history.  Not a bad stretch for only three generations.  

Had my grandfathers well into adulthood.  One great grandfather died just after my 18th birthday. His wife made it to when I got married.  Buried my last grandparent on Pearl Harbor Day 2020.

Wife still has 2 of hers alive.  We are in our 40s.

Both of mine were dead before I was born.

Yes, both of them actually.  

Mom's Dad was a WWII Army veteran who served as a M16 halftrack commander in Europe, the one with the quad 50 caliber gun mount in the back.  He received two Purple Hearts, one when he was shot by an incoming Messerschmitt BF-109 and another when they drove over a mine and blew their vehicle up.  I used to spend a lot of time at my Mom's parents and would always take over whatever plastic model I was working on, usually WW2 vehicles and aircraft.  He did not drink much but would grab a beer from the fridge and tell me stories about the war such as the first time they saw a Me-262 and how it scared them because it flew so fast they couldn't shoot it down.  He said they soon figured out you just had to lead it a bit more lol.  The story about getting shot always terrified me because he said it was a 20mm AP round that went through his helmet and just grazed his head but if it had been another degree or two off it would have blown his head off.  He told me of other near misses and of friends that were killed along with stories about his younger brothers who fought in the war, one of which was in the Navy and was KIA about a month before Japan surrendered. After the war, he returned and worked as a police officer for a short period before he joined the fire department.  I remember when they would have the occasional fish fry at the fire station and we would get to slide down the pole in the fire house and play on the fire trucks.  The 70s were a great time to be a kid but would guess there is too much liability to let kids do that now.  After my Grandmother died he had a stroke so was confined to a wheelchair with paralysis on one side and a major speech deficit.  He would still tell me stories but would get upset and cry which he didn't do when I was younger.  When my Grandfather died, my uncles were amazed at the number of stories I knew because apparently he did not talk about the war much to them.  He has been gone for about 15 years but has always been one of my greatest heroes and I miss him every day.  Getting misty thinking about him now.


This is a photo of my Grandpa in Germany shortly before the war ended for him.  He told me about a German girlfriend he had for a brief period but the higher ups told him he had to break it off because they considered it fraternizing with the enemy.  To beat it all when he came home he married a German woman, my Grandmother lol.

My Dad's Dad was a few years younger so missed WWII but did serve in the Army during the Korean War.  He never talked about his time over there and for some reason I never asked.  When I was young we lived in Kentucky but my Dad's parents lived in Florida so we only saw them once or twice a year.  He was a lot rougher around the edges and reminded me of Jackie Gleason in the Smokey and the Bandit movies but not in a funny way.  He and my Grandmother married at a young age but they were immature and both had tempers.  Dad told me stories about how one time she put his clothes on the lawn and set them on fire then he came home and shot up the piano.  He was a fantastic musician and played in bands for years and opened for some well known country acts.  At some point they moved to Kentucky along with my 3 uncles and one of my fondest memories was spending a couple evenings in a recording studio while he and several session players recorded a number of songs in a piano style he called "boogie woogie".  I still have a tape around here somewhere from those recordings. Unfortunately I had a falling out with my youngest uncle in my mid 20s and was ostracized by that entire side of the family for the next 10 years before he died.  Before my Grandfather died they asked if I could make him a set of dentures which I did by going to his house to make impressions etc.  He died a few months later from prostate cancer and my Grandmother died shortly after from leukemia.  The crazy thing is she was diagnosed with that while he was in the hospital and as far as I know she never told him.  I loved them both but was always closer to my Mom's parents and having a rift with my uncle and my subsequent treatment really changed how I felt about them.

Yeah but it didn't really matter.

I grew up in the house next door to my dad's parents and we never talked much.  We'd go over for Xmas or major holidays sometimes but it would have been awkward if I just went over to hang out.  

My mom's dad died in 2020ish.  I know he lived in town 20 minutes away but I couldn't tell you where.  

My family is fucked up

No, they both died in the late 1960's.  One was born in 1880 the other in 1915.  I would have liked to have some conversations with men who were born and grew up in that time.

My dads dad died when I was maybe 13 , but we never had a close relationship with my dads family.

My moms dad died when I was 18 , and while we had more of a relationship with him , he and I at the time did not get along well. However , I have taken more life skills from him then anyone in my life. My sense of work ethic no doubt comes from him. Guy was always doing something and had built a very nice business and nest egg for his family after he died. Too bad his , my uncle and aunts , were just terrible with the money and squandered it.

Both grandfathers died before I was 8.  Smoking killed off a lot of my family.  My great-grandad didn't die until I was 19.  Learned a hell of a lot from him.

GP died when I was 9. Father when I was 13, dads brother (uncle) was a huge influence but gone when I was 15.

My children got to know their Great Grandparents on Dad's side

No, both had died. My maternal grandfather died of a heart attack when I was a child. My paternal grandfather was shot by a black man in Burlington, NC during the early 1930's.  The perp thought firecrackers being ignited were actually gunshots directed toward him and he pulled a gun. My paternal grandfather was a respected businessman and he and my grandmother had been to dinner.  They were walking back to their home. The event had a massive effect on the family dynamic.

I’m 36, both my paternal grandparents are still alive.


I was very close with my maternal grandparents they had a huge influence in my growing up. My grandmother passed when I was 20 and my grandfather passed when I was about 25. He’s the origin of my love of guns.

Very fortunate to have gotten that time. I even remember my great-grandparents clearly. One of my paternal great grandmothers lived until I was 18.


My maternal grandfather was a character. He shared countless stories and lots of wisdom including gems like this;


- Fat women are for poor men

- Never date a woman who can eat a cob of corn through a chain link fence (not sure where he got that one).


He grew up DIRT poor in north west Alabama and eventually Oklahoma though I never did learn why the family relocated. As a child he saw his uncle shoot his father, round went through his fathers shoulder and then hit his grandmother in the chest. His father grabbed the pistol from the uncle and proceeded to beat the hell out of him with it.


I believe this was the same uncle who was a bus driver in Birmingham. Guy got on the bus with a pistol to rob him and my grandfathers uncle (my great great uncle) replied “No”, pulled out his own pistol and shot the guy right out the door dead.


Not the nicest family.

I never knew my paternal grandparents. Dad's dad, an AEF veteran, died 8 months after dad was born. His mom died in 1963. My only memory is being at her house watching the Untouchables on a B/W television with a round screen.

I knew all my maternal grandparents and great grandparents. Wonderful people involved with their family who loved us all. My grandma had a special spot for me - I could do NO wrong in her eyes. They owned a Victorian monstrosity a stones throw from downtown Seattle.  I got out of the Army at 20, and they had a massive basement I stayed in for that first year after when I wasn't crashing with some girl. They still heated with coal this was 1979. I'd do the shoveling, keep the yard mowed, move whatever needed moving. Grandma would feed me eggs and sausage and tell me to wear a rubber because those little tramps would try to make babies and trap me. My grandfather would drink coffee and laugh, especially if I was hungover. That year after I ETS'd was great fun.

I'm smiling now and could go on and on. Miss them so. Our daughter loved her great grandparents to pieces also...

Nope and neither my dad ...

Only knew my maternal grandfather and had seen him only a dozen times.

Found out by accident way too late that my surname is not the surname of my bio-grandfather.

Man I'm sorry to hear that.

When my wife and I first started dating she was flabbergasted by the relationship I had with my grandparents.  We'd be out cruising and I'd swing into my grandparents just to get a bottle of water and leave.  With her family it was weeks of planning to see grandparents.  With mine I basically lived there, both sets.  

Now it goes the other way.  Just the other day my grandmother showed up and announced "I need a shovel, where's yours, I broke the handle" lol

Same on my mom's side. I have a cousin who was 18 when his great great grandma (my grandma) died.

My grandpa died when I was 25. He was my neighbor, mentor, and friend.

No, but I remember going over to a college friend's house once, and meeting their grandfather, who about seventy years old.  As he walked out of the house, "He said, I going to go pick up, Dad."

I was like, "He's going to pick up his father?"   And, my friend said, "Yeah, his father is 97 and we don't let him drive."

No. I was born in April '68. Paternal grandfather died in '47, maternal died in October of '68. Never met my grandmothers either. That's what you get when your dad is 65 & your mom is 40 when you're born.

I knew my maternal grandfather and great grandfather, ggf passed when I was about 8, gf passed about 15yrs ago.

Nope.  Neither.

Dad's dad waited till he what 35 years old to get married.  He died at 76 years of age when I was 14.

Mom's dad died at 54 years of age when I was in elementary school.

I remember both of them.  Spent way more time around my dad's dad though as we visited them much more.  Mom's mom died in her early 40's and her dad lived with one of his son's afterward for a few years and then a daughter for awhile before he passed away.

Grandpa on mom's side died when i was 3.  Dad's side made it til i was in my early 20s. He didn't talk much.   Smoked like a train and drank a lot of whiskey.

My grandfather's dad and father in law both served in the civil war. My grandfather died when I was 6 and he was 87.

Met grandparents on mother's side a few times as kids, dad's side just grandfather and only once IIRC.  As adults no, although they were alive at the time I turned 21.  They lived into their 80's

Yes. One was born in Arizona and one in Austria. One left Europe early in the 1900s to get out of the war only to be drafted and sent back. My Arizona gramps told me stories of renegades, bandits and outlaws before Arizona joined the union. My Austrian gramps didn’t really talk and just smoked chesterfields like a locomotive.

Oddly, they never met as my Arizona gramps lived in a dirt floor cabin in Patagonia, Az and my other gramps lived in the UP in a cabin for the rest of his life.

He's still going and will be 101 next week. WW2 vet who served in NA and  Europe.

I didn't know the other one.

I was 2 when my paternal grandfather died; obviously I don't remember him.

I was 20 when my maternal grandfather died.  He was a farmer who raised chickens, potatoes, and sugar beets.  Drafted into the Army in 1918, spent his time in World War I at Fort Vancouver in Washington.  He was the perfect grandpa, miss him to this day.

.
3 of my grandparents lived into their 90s

the other was hit by a truck and died much younger
.

Didn’t know my paternal grandfather; he died 7 years before I was born.  My maternal grandfather died when I was 14.  My parental grandmother died when I was 20.  My maternal grandmother died when I was 41.

My paternal grandpa  was a farm hand in western Nebraska.  Raised 4 kids, worked hard, and boxed.  Apparently he was tougher than nails.  My dad was 5’8” and he was taller than my grandpa, but apparently he could easily handle himself in a fight.  My dad said he was a bit of SOB, had a temper, and he promised he would never be like him.    Per my aunts, this all may have had something to do with my dad also being able to handle himself pretty well in a fight.  So maybe it was a good thing I didn’t know him.  

My maternal grandpa was a great man.  He was a giant of a man, especially to me.  In fact he was just over 6 feet tall.  Red hair.  He was half Irish, half Dane.  I spent a lot of time with him and we talked about things like heaven, and history, his travels to Europe and the Middle East after he retired, and his childhood.   During the Great Depression he worked for the CCC here in SD.  He wanted to enlist during WW2  but Type 1 Diabetes prevented it.  He was also apparently a bit of a hell raiser before he met my grandma.  He was tremendously affable.  People were drawn to him.   He ended up selling insurance and developed a pretty solid client base in southeast SD.  He would take me fishing, he came to all my little league games, and later, while I knew he wasn’t feeling well, he always went out of his way to spend time with me.  I had my first sips of beer with him on our fishing trips…I was 4.  I wasn’t present when he died, but my mom, my aunt and the nurse all said that he told them he saw Jesus and that it was going to be okay.  He closed his eyes and died.

My paternal grandma hated God for most the time I knew her.  She blamed him for taking my grandpa, then her second husband, and then my uncle, her baby, at the years of age.  She was kind and quick to laugh with the grandkids.  She was a lot like my maternal grandpa in that she loved to spend time with us.  She was born in Canada, spent her childhood in Chicago, where her older brothers ran booze for Al Capone, then ended up in western Nebraska where she met my grandpa.  She was also hard worker and very proud.  She was close to a few Mexican families there where she got a recipe for the most authentic enchiladas I ever had.  She found Jesus on her death bed and died at peace.  

My maternal grandma was a tough old bird, weighed maybe 100 pounds.  She was raised a Mennonite and had profound faith.   She was a teacher in a single room school house before meeting my grandpa.  She kept a clean and ordered house.  She expected us over for Sunday dinner, which she made from scratch.  She never touched a drop, even though my grandpa loved his beer.  She never said a word about it.  Apparently she only danced with 2 men, my grandpa and then with me at my wedding.   After my grandpa died, she waited patiently for  27 years to see him again.   During that time, she traveled some more, multiple trips to Europe to work on the family history, and volunteered.   She died her sleep.

I was 18 when my maternal grandfather died.  He was a WWI veteran, 20th Engineers, AEF.

I was 41 when my paternal grandfather died.

Dad's Dad died when I was 12. His mom, I was 22.

I was 38 when mom's dad died. Her mom died two years earlier when I was 36.

I was lucky I guess- I had 3 grandparents into adulthood (although looking back, 22 doesn't seem that grown ).

My parents were 21 years apart. I never met my dad’s dad.

My dad died when I was 12.

By 13, all of my grandparents were dead except my dad’s mom.

My grandfather on my father’s side died when I was 19 at 65years old. He was a WWII vet who had his own offshore oil business. He lived an exciting yet short life.

Grandfather on my mother’s side lived to be 92. He was still cutting grass and driving. One of the hardest working toughest SOB’s I ever met.

Both of my grand parents were alive when I graduated high school.
One of them died shortly after.

Yes.  He died 14 years ago yesterday.  I was 41 when he passed away.