Dear Grandpa,
It’s been 11 years snice you’ve gone. I can still remember the night being so peaceful, so still, and so cold. I remember the day we laid you to rest. The snowflakes that fell that day were the biggest ones I’ve ever seen. I wanted to be one of the few who go to carry you to your final resting place, but I watched instead as my brother, cousin, brother in law, and a few others carried you instead.

I’ll never forget when my 18th birthday rolled around and I eagerly went to the gas station and bought a can of your grizzly wintergreen chewing tobacco. I took it to you grave and had lunch with you. The sun was shining and I was happy enough even though you weren’t with me anymore.

You were my best friend. The amount of days I skipped school just to hang out with you nearly cost me my graduation. The people at school frowned upon the week I missed when you passed. Said I shouldn’t have been gone that long and that I needed to be there from then on. What was I supposed to say? Grief has no time limit and I wasn’t capable of dragging myself out of bed to go be around people who never understood me. You always did though.

I wonder what you would think of me now. Would you still be proud of me? Would you still be able to sit in silence with me and just watch the tv? Would you still be able to look me in the eyes and tell me everything was going to be ok? You were my safe place in this world and even though it has been 11 years my heart still hurts. I yearn to hear your laugh, see your smile, and feel the warmth of your hugs.

I love and miss you so much, Grandpa.