It’s weird to think that each year you’re alive, you pass your death date. You go through the motions, age a year older, celebrate life for what it is and keep going. You never stop to think about how this day, next year, could be the day you take your last breath.

Unfortunately, for my Papa, that day came on February 19^th.He was sick for awhile, but not very long. Once it all became too much for his body to handle, he shut down and peacefully went up to be with his family and friends who had already passed on, leaving a legacy and a gaping hole in my family’s hearts.

I’m not sure if there’s anything up in heaven like the Internet or not. I guess if there was we would still be able to talk to the people who leave us. But Papa, if you’re able to read this, I just want you to know: I love you.

You were a strong man, a family man. You always put your family’s needs above your own and you were there for us emotionally, physically, and often times financially. There was no one quite like you, Papa. You knew right from wrong and instilled that in all of your kids, passed it down to your grandkids and your great-grandkids.

You were so immensely loved, Papa, and that will never change—no matter how much time passes. You carried so many roles in our family, and you managed to excel at each and every one.

You were an amazing cook, and I will truly miss your New Year’s dinners. You were an excellent listener, and you gave some solid advice, too. You were a nurse, the best nurse, to go to when my cousins and I got a bee sting or stubbed our toes.

You were fair and kind. I can’t even begin to recount how many fights you broke up between my cousins and me over this special blue sippy cup. You taught us how to share, how to love selflessly, and how to work hard for the things you want.

You were an incredible husband, father and friend, and there isn’t a soul out there who would disagree. You were the definition of “achieving the American Dream.“

You were a hardworking fisherman who was able to retire and watch his family grow and chase after their dreams. You got to see two of your granddaughters get married and start families of their own. You got to see your great-grandchildren come into the world, and even got to watch some of them grow up.

You had a long life, a great life. A life most people wish they could have. These may be small achievements, but to you, family was the ultimate prize. Sure, we might be crazy and have our flaws and we haven’t always gotten along, but we were yours and you were proud of the family you built. You always knew how to make something from nothing.

But Papa, I understand. Your body was weak and tired from the illnesses that age had bestowed upon you. Your heart and mind were strong, but your body was slowly giving up. You knew it would be a matter of time, which is why you’d take a little longer to say goodbye and kiss my cheek and say, “I love you, Baby.”

I wouldn’t have wanted you to fight harder than you had to because you knew your time was up. You waited for your family to be around you, you waited to feel the warm embrace of your family beside you, and you knew God was calling you back.

I don’t blame you for leaving, Papa, and I’m glad you waited until I could see you one last time. I’m glad that you could feel, even in your sleep, that we wanted you to go when it was time. We didn’t want you to fight any longer. We wanted peace for you, Papa.

And although for those who are left on this earth, feeling the aching pain that your absence brings, I can’t help but feel truly lucky to have had you as a grandfather. You make me a proud granddaughter, and I hope that not a day goes by where you aren’t watching over me and our family.

I don’t know if heaven allows computers, but I hope you see this somehow.

With all my love,

Your granddaughter