From the moment I was born, my life was full of hardship that could have destroyed me but instead, those experiences shaped me, my siblings, and my cousins into the people we are today. My mother was struggling with a crack cocaine addiction when she became pregnant with me. Before I was born, she was arrested and sentenced to four years in prison. As an innocent baby, I was thrust into a world that seemed uncertain until my grandparents stepped in and saved me.
They would tell the story often, and they can still picture the long, sterile hallway of Galveston Hospital. He carried me in a baby tube, a contraption that resembled a small car seat and walked with pride. The nurses teased, “Mr. Grant, do you know that’s a baby tube?” He chuckled back, “I know what it is.” What they did not know was how deeply he was determined to bring me home. He had learned that staff believed no family would claim me. He smiled, but inside he burned with purpose: he was going to take me home.
My mother had called him earlier. The nurses, she said, had grown fond of the “curly brown-haired baby with deep dimples and rosy, soft skin.” Yet my grandfather ignored their coolness and carried me out of that hospital, every step a testament of love. He placed me safely in my grandmother’s arms. My mother returned to prison, comforted by the knowledge that I was safe.
Together, my grandparents raised me as if I were their own. Throughout my childhood, they made sure I visited my mother regularly and always dressed my sister and I in matching outfits, a small but potent reminder of stability in a life that could have been anything but. Though the world around our home felt chaotic, they made our days feel ordinary.
My grandfather was more than a guardian; he was a hero. He coached Little League baseball for years, teaching boys about discipline, respect, and teamwork. Some of the players he mentored made it to the major leagues. Off the field, he served on school boards, partnering with educators to better the lives of children in our neighborhood. According to Project Play, participation in youth sports is linked to better academic outcomes and social development (“Youth Sports Facts: Participation Rates”).
Beyond his official roles, my grandfather became a powerful advocate for our school district during some of its hardest years. When budget cuts and political pressure threatened to close schools in our area, he fought with everything he had to keep the district alive. He attended every board meeting, wrote letters, rallied parents, and made sure his voice carried the voices of the children and families who were not being heard. He believed deeply in education, not just sports were the heartbeat of a strong community. His passion and persistence helped keep schools open, protect programs that were on the verge of disappearing, and defend opportunities for kids who might have been overlooked.
His determination was so strong that his voice became part of the public record. During the heated fight to save North Forest ISD from being absorbed into Houston ISD, my grandfather, Roy Grant, spoke out publicly. As reported by North Forest ISD requests temporary restraining order in one more effort to stay independent | ABC7 New York | abc7ny.com - ABC7 New York, he said, “I think they are trying to railroad us, trying to take over our district.” He was not speaking for himself he was speaking for a community that felt powerless. He reminded everyone that with HISD’s takeover, “We won’t stand a chance against HISD.” Those words captured the urgency and the pride of a neighborhood fighting to protect its identity and its children.
His influence extended far beyond our block. He built relationships with community leaders, judges, and even political figures such as Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee and Congressman Sylvester Turner. People who knew him would say the same thing: he was the one who showed up when others did not. He gave his time and energy freely, and his legacy resonated in every life he touched.
When my grandmother died in 2017, his health began to decline. Soon after, he was diagnosed with dementia. According to the Alzheimer’s Association, over 6.5 million Americans aged 65 and older live with Alzheimer’s or another form of dementia (Alzheimer’s Association). Caring for him became my responsibility, not out of obligation, but out of love. He had raised me; now I would return the favor.
Caring for him was not easy. There were days when he broke dishes, shouted out of confusion, and sometimes lashed out physically. I found myself cleaning, consoling, and comforting him often while I cried from sheer exhaustion. Some family members accused me of helping him only for his monthly check. But money never mattered to me. Every dollar I spent went toward his well-being. To me, he was like God protector, teacher, and the center of my world.
Nothing could have prepared me for the day he died. Hours before, I’d run a warm bath for him, hoping the water would soothe the pain in his hip from a recent fall. I left to prepare dinner, thinking he was resting. But then my fiancé found him in the tub, unresponsive. I immediately began CPR thirty chest compressions, three breaths over and over repeatedly until my arms shook and my chest seized from panic. When the paramedics came, they took over. I followed them to the ambulance, my heart pounding, my prayers raw. At the hospital, I watched the machines beep, then stopped. When the doctor said he was gone, I collapsed. My grief was instant, crushing.
One thing he said still echoes in my mind:
“I love you, and I’ll never give up on you because I see something in you that you do not yet see in yourself.”
When I was little, I did not understand. But now, I do. I see the strength, compassion, and resilience he poured into me. Because of him, I survive depression, doubt, loss I survive. My grandfather did not just raise me; he built me.
Writing this story forced me to revisit some of my most painful memories. My mother’s addiction and incarceration shaped more than just my childhood they shaped how I understood love, trust, and forgiveness. But through it all, my grandfather was my anchor. He gave me a second chance in life, and writing this piece feels like honoring that legacy.
On a broader level, my story mirrors a reality many families face. According to a 2025 NIH report, nearly 19 million U.S. children live with at least one parent who has a substance use disorder (“Millions of U.S. Kids Live with Parents”). The most common issue is alcohol use disorder, affecting around 12 million parents, followed by cannabis use disorder in over 6 million children’s households (University of Michigan). These figures highlight how widespread the problem is and how deeply children can be affected.
Simultaneously, I have been shaped by adulthood in a different way through sports, community, and mentorship. My grandfather’s role in youth baseball is part of that, because youth sports remain a powerful space for building resilience and community. Reports show that about 53.8% of U.S. children aged 6–17 played organized sports in 2022, and over 8 million high schoolers competed in sports in the 2023–24 school year (“Participation in High School Sports Tops Eight Million”).
Writing this piece was cathartic. It allowed me to grieve and celebrate at once. I was inspired by music I listened to by Mary J. Blige, Mariah Carey, Anthony Hamilton, and Johnny Taylor (my grandfather’s favorite) to channel the rhythm of pain, love, and hope in my words.
In the future, I see this becoming a memoir or a collection of stories not just mine, but others who were raised by grandparents, who lived with addiction, or who were shaped by community leaders. I hope readers understand even from suffering, something strong can grow. Even when you think you are broken, you can be rebuilt.
Works Cited
Alzheimer’s Association. 2025 Alzheimer’s Disease Facts & Figures. Alzheimer’s Association, 2025. www.alz.org/getmedia/ef8f48f9-ad36-48ea-87f9-b7408c9f0930/executive-summary-2025-alzheimers-disease-facts-and-figures.pdf
University of Michigan / Institute for Social Research. “1 in 4 Kids Live with Parents Who Have Alcohol or Other Drug Problems.” University of Michigan, May 2025, medicine.umich.edu/dept/psychiatry/news/archive/1-4-kids-live-parents-who-have-substance-use-disorder.
National Institutes of Health. “Millions of U.S. Kids Live with Parents with Substance Use Disorders.” NIH Research Matters, 3 June 2025, https://www.nih.gov/news-events/nih-research-matters/millions-us-kids-live-parents-substance-use-disorders.
Project Play / Aspen Institute. “Youth Sports Facts: Participation Rates.” Project Play, 2025, projectplay.org/kids-sports-participation-rates.
Sports Destination Management. “Participation in High School Sports Tops Eight Million for First Time in 2023–24.” 26 Aug. 2024, Participation in High School Sports Tops Eight Million for First Time in 2023-24 | Sports Destination Management