I grew up in a family of huge Red Sox fans. I remember being very small and sitting in my grandparents' living room, watching the game with my grandpa. He never saw his beloved Red Sox win a World Series, and they never seemed to do very well in the years of my childhood. I even told him once, "You need a new team, Grandpa."

"I've stuck with them this long," I remember him saying simply.

What grandparents say to children is powerful. I took away from that how you don't give up on the things or people you love--even when they don't give you back everything you hoped for.

When they'd inevitably lose, he'd switch off the TV. "Well, that's that," he'd say.

Even as a tiny child, I'd nod. "Yup, that's that."

This morning as I'm getting ready to drive to MA to see my mom and thinking of my daughter who has seen both the darkest moments of living in Boston and some of the brightest this past year, I feel that bittersweet pull of wishing my Grandpa was here to see this day, too. Having stuck with the Red Sox all those long years of losing, I hope somewhere he's smiling.

"That's THAT, Grandpa."