3 months.

3 months since we lost you. 5 months ago we were told you had 2-6 months to live.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss you. It's crazy to me how much we take for granted. I miss that big smile of yours. I miss leaving your house and hearing "see ya later." I miss that contagious laugh that appeared whenever I made one of my bad jokes. Thanks for always laughing at those, by the way. I miss all the computer questions you had every single day. I didn't think a Mac could be confusing, but you proved us all wrong. I miss seeing your ripped jeans that didn't ever seem to fit. I miss throwing the wrapping paper to you on Christmas Eve and seeing if you could catch it each time. I miss the softball talk. I miss being asked every time I came over how I was doing. I miss telling you how I was doing and how I was doing with driving. I miss the Cracker Barrel breakfast Sundays. And I miss how you got the same thing every time at Charlie Brown's. I miss you.

I think knowing I didn't have much time with you was the scariest thing. Seeing you for 16 and a half years and then all of sudden never seeing you again still, puts me in shock. It was hard knowing you didn't have much time left. Knowing that any day I could have been told that you passed.

I'm sorry for looking at you differently because of that. I'm sorry for keeping quiet those last few months. I just wish I could have had more time with you.

Thank you for all the laughs, the smiles, the jokes, and the constant reminder to be careful.

I love you.