One could declare the possible truth that "I never knew you," but this doesn't feel true to me.

I've always known you.

Through stories, memories, pictures, and "what might have been's" I have known you forever.

My dad would tell us stories of your adventures during dinner time. Something would click in his brain and remind him of you: his father. He would tell each story just like it was yesterday, with longing and admiration on his face. My brothers and I would hang on to each and every word; we loved hearing stories about you. We'd always beg for just one more story; because really, how could we ever hear enough stories about the man we were never able to meet for ourselves?

When I think of you, the images that come to mind are the few photos of you I have seen. The one with your wild and crazy beard, that seemed to have matched your spirit, and hair that have never got a chance to have a touch of gray to it. Of course, there's the picture from your high school years we keep on our table; the one that exactly resembles my little brother. When I envision the type of person you were when you were younger, I just think of him.

Though you never got the chances to teach, inspire and motivate your grandchildren for yourself, we still received valuable lessons from you through my father. Because of you, he was able to teach us the value of a dollar and the importance of always being honest; these lessons we were lucky enough to learn from stories about the times my dad was in trouble with you.

I wish you were still here to see the kind of adults your children grew up to be. I wish you were able to meet my brothers, my cousins and I; you would get a hoot out of our family gatherings. I wish I could see what kind of person you would be today, and how different life would be with you in it.

I think most people would argue that you can't really miss anything you have never had. I disagree.

Have you ever seen those fake lottery tickets? You scratch the ticket and for a few seconds you think you won $1,000. Your heart leaps. Your palms sweat. Someone tells you to turn around and read the back of the ticket: can only be redeemed by the tooth fairy, and you must have an "excellent" sense of humor. Yeah, you didn't win the money- it was a joke. But do you miss it? Do you wish you really had won that money? Are you kinda mad that the money was taken away from you so easily? Of course. This is kind of what losing a grandparent before you were born feels like; you were cheated out of something good. You were so close to having something special, but you missed out. You can't help but wonder what life would have been like if things were the other way around.

It's sad that I never got to know you for myself, but I'm grateful for the times I've shared with my dad talking about you. In a weird way, maybe it made our relationship closer.

I believe in an after life, so each passing day I believe you're watching over us through all the troubles, blessings, laughter, and tears. I believe you're there at the dinner table with us as my dad tells us stories about you. I believe you're there laughing, smiling, and bonding with us.

I believe you are here, but just not in the way we would prefer.