It’s true, great dads do get promoted to grandpa

Yesterday was my wedding anniversary, the fifth one I have spent without my late husband, Jeff, who died of ALS in 2020.

Jeff Sarnacki’s daughter, Makelle, holds her daughter while enjoying a show at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom in October 2025. (Photo by Juliet Taylor)

In the days leading up to each anniversary, my feelings range from sadness at his loss to gratitude for our time together, from peace in believing that he is still in the universe in some way to anger that he was taken by this disease relatively early in his big life, just five days after his 60th birthday.

This anniversary, I spent the day at Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom, and the day was filled with reminders and gifts, the kind I am always looking for — and finding — when I think about Jeff.

During his last few months living with ALS, Jeff’s daughter, Makelle, shared that she was expecting her first child that October. Jeff had been adamant that he didn’t want a tracheostomy — a decision I understood and respected — but he began to reconsider so he could stay alive for his granddaughter’s birth, and for as much time as possible beyond that. I’d always thought he was born to be a grandfather. He would have been the kind to build elaborate forts and coach soccer, to teach her to ride a bike and take her fishing. He would have cherished and protected her as he did with all of us he held most dear.

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For reasons beyond our control, including the arrival of COVID-19 in the U.S. that same month and other complicating factors, Jeff determined a tracheostomy was not a viable option after all, so we focused instead on celebrating the joy he felt in his daughter’s coming child. Makelle bought him a shirt that read “Great Dads Get Promoted to Grandpa” and shared her pregnancy milestones with him. He nicknamed his unborn granddaughter “Ethel.”

Jeff Sarnacki and Juliet Taylor’s granddaughter enjoys a water garden at Epcot as part of a trip to celebrate her fifth birthday. (Photo by Juliet Taylor)

Heartbreakingly, Jeff had been gone for several months when his granddaughter was born that October. ALS is cruel and relentless always, but never more so than when it disregards hopes and wishes, when it denies seemingly simple asks for just one more day or one more month, or a milestone to share with the people we love.

And while Jeff didn’t live to be a grandfather, I have found an unexpected gift in honoring his memory by becoming the grandmother I would have been alongside him. I, who have never had biological children of my own, get to love someone new who is Jeff’s own flesh and blood. This amazing joy is one I had never anticipated, and one of the truly unexpected delights of my life.

That’s how I found myself at Magic Kingdom yesterday on a special trip to celebrate my granddaughter’s fifth birthday — the three of us waiting in line to meet Cinderella, gorging ourselves on popcorn and chocolate cake, spinning in the Magic Teacup ride until we were dizzy. It was everything a day at Disney World promises to be for a family and a 5-year-old.

Jeff Sarnacki and Juliet Taylor’s granddaughter enjoys a pool in Orlando, Florida. (Photo by Juliet Taylor)

At the same time, it was a day filled with impressions of Jeff — Makelle and I laughing as we rescued a tiny frog trapped in our rental car, working together to corral him into a box and deliver him via parking lot tram to a safer environment. It was just what her dad would have done. And we both laughed when my granddaughter flailed her arms in exasperation waiting in line, absolutely a trait she inherited from her grandfather, even though they never met.

And equally as beautiful, Makelle brought me coffee in bed yesterday morning — my wedding anniversary — knowing this was one of my and Jeff’s sweetest and most beloved traditions. In just the way I try to care for her, she does the same for me. That is the power and influence that someone we love can have, long after they’re gone. And what I have found is that this influence, this love, does not dissipate with time. It grows.

As I write this, I’m watching my granddaughter splash around in the hotel pool, appreciating her sweetness and also the traits I can see she inherited from Jeff — his independence, boldness, and curiosity. I hope to watch her grow up and be there for both her milestones and those everyday moments, to honor Jeff in doing so, and enjoy the gifts he left us.

I would give anything for Jeff to be here with us. At the same time, I have to make the very best of the days I have been given. As for anniversaries, from that perspective, they don’t come much better than this.

Note: ALS News Today is strictly a news and information website about the disease. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or other qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of ALS News Today or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to ALS.