[Editor's note: Grandparents

Day was Sept. 7, although the occasion was listed on only one of four

calendars in the editor's office.]

It's hard to forget Mother's

or Father's Day: Grocery store card aisles resemble a war zone, flowers

or ties are in high demand, and ads depict parents awed with diamonds

or power tools. However, Grandparents Day has been cast into the same

holiday discard pile as Flag Day and Labor Day. Except, because school

is still in session, no one even remembers it.

Well, maybe we should.

When the Olympics came to town

in 1996, I suddenly decided I was going to become an Olympian swimmer

(a bit of a stretch for someone who still can't make two laps without

gasping for air). I rushed to my mom with the news, only to hear, "Oh,

everyone wants to be an Olympian when the games are on TV."

Dejected, I trudged to the

phone and told my grandparents, who also live in Peachtree City, about

my now tentative aspirations. "That's great!" my grandma exclaimed.

My grandpa shared her enthusiastic support. "Come over and practice

in our pool anytime; we'll say we knew you when!"

Of course, my dreams of being

the next gold medallist left with the last Olympic fan; however, I'll

never forget my grandparents' blind support of me. They probably knew

that my new goal would leave as quickly as it came, but they also knew

that I needed their support more than a reality check.

I've been blessed with very

supportive parents, but my grandparents top even them. I brushed off my

high school baccalaureate, telling my parents and family not to bother

coming because it'd be boring and they'd see me at graduation. As I walked

up to the church and saw all my friends' families greeting them and posing

for pictures, I began to regret my blasé attitude toward the event.

Seconds later, I saw my grandparents hurrying toward me, grinning at the

sight of their eldest granddaughter in cap and gown. "We know you

told us not to come, but we just had to see you!" Tears filled my

eyes.

With all they do for us, it's

such a travesty that useless holidays like Labor Day get more attention

than Grandparents' Day.

When I visited them at their

former New York City home, my grandparents would spoil me rotten by taking

me to every restaurant, amusement park, zoo, and landmark in sight. Their

current house is covered with pictures of us nine grandkids. They never

miss a recital, play, game or show unless it's humanly impossible for

them to be there.

My grandma is always cutting

out and sending me articles that remind her of me. When I was 7 and writing

stories by hand for lack of computer, she continually offered me hers.

She sat on concrete bleachers for hours so she'd have a good seat for

my graduation.

Whenever he sees me, my grandpa

sits down with me and engages me in conversation, sincerely wanting to

hear my views and catch up with me. He actually volunteers to take my

4-year-old sister and my young cousins for mornings or afternoons simply

so he can spend time with his grandchildren. And he doesn't just sit in

front of the TV watching golf (OK, well not when he's with one of them).

He goes on nature walks, makes Indian costumes out of construction paper,

or helps the kids put on an elaborate play.

And all this is in addition

to their book clubs, mah-jongg games, church activities, and golf!

Aside from my parents and sisters,

my grandparents have most strongly influenced who I am today. (How do

they sleep at night?!) I can only hope to aspire to their generosity,

youthfulness, community involvement, and most of all, their undying love

and support of their family, especially their grandchildren. All dinners

and amusement parks aside, they're fantastic people.

So thank you, Ken and Ellie

Gaynor, for being what grandparents should be. And thank you, all grandparents,

for spoiling, supporting, and loving your grandchildren. Happy Grandparents'

Day!

[Peachtree City resident

Jennifer Gaynor is a student at the University of Georgia.]