No one expects to lose a grandparent young. My grandfather was only 72 years old when we lost him to cancer, a cancer that took him quickly. My heart still aches with pain when I think about the call, hearing "he won't make the night". You never realize when you're young what life truly is, with life comes death, and death can take the ones we love when we are not ready to let them go. I never expected I would wake up on September 13th, 2015 and watch my grandfather pass away, I had so many things left I wanted to say, so many hand holds and hugs still to be given, so many memories to be made.

If I could talk to him one last time, I would tell him how much I love him, and how much he means to me. Every birthday card, Christmas laugh, and big Santa Clause kiss (he really did look like Santa Clause, he had the white beard and everything), meant the world to me. I would tell him how school is going and how my boyfriend is. I would invite him over my apartment for dinner and go fishing with him, there was so much left to do.

He won't be there when I get engaged, he won't be here when I get married, when I have my first child, when I graduate college, but I know he'll be watching over me every day. I feel his presence daily and when I miss him and I cry, I know he's with me. I see his signs of shiny pennies on the ground and butterflies on my car, I know he's here, just not physically.

I will miss him forever. Holidays aren't the same without him, I always wait for his call or wait for him to walk through the door but I know it won't happen. He's my guardian angel, my Santa, my pepere, and I love him more than he'll ever know, and I miss him every single day, I hope I'm making him proud.