Dear Pa,

It's been a few weeks since I last spoke to you at your funeral, and I still haven't been able to comprehend that fact that I'll only be able to see you in memories or pictures. You were a bigger part of my life than I can even put into words, but I'm doing my best right now as I sit in my bedroom, trying to put endless memories into a limited letter. It won't fully represent you, but I hope you like it.

I have so much to thank you for now that I reflect on the role you had as I grew into the man I am today. Thank you for teaching me how to have a sense of humor. Back when my idea of being funny was running circles around your house, punching the back of your newspaper, and repeating that process until I was so tired I couldn't stand anymore. I'm sure that was annoying to you, but you laughed every time and made me think I was hilarious. It might seem like a small thing, but your laugh and encouragement helped me learn that laughter truly is the best medicine and how easily a joke can lift the mood of a room. Thank you for making me feel like an adult. While you and Mimi would sip on wine and suck on some hard candies, you would always make me a wine glass of root beer and gave me some bullseye candies to help me feel like an adult. You'd have your drink, I'd have mine, and we would play pool in your basement for hours on end. Sure, I couldn't even reach the table, and I couldn't use the pool sticks but that didn't stop you from making a whole new game for the two of us. If you remember, you'd wake up at the crack of dawn with me so we could make pancakes and watch cartoons on the weekends. I'd wear a fake chef hat and honestly probably wasn't much help at all, but I felt like a pro. I'd crack eggs all over your counter while you made the best pancakes I've ever had. Even with the mess, you didn't care, you only cared that I was learning and having fun. You made me feel all grown up when I was as young as 5.

There's so much to thank you for, but if there's anything, thank you for teaching me how to be a true gentleman. You were the kindest and funniest person I've ever come across, always supporting myself and every other member of the family the best you could. The way your presence eased a room as you cracked a joke or told some old stories was incredible. To this date, like you, I try to see the best in people. I'm kind to everybody, and I'm never scared to crack a joke every once in a while, and I attribute a lot of that to you and my Dad, who probably learned a lot of that from you too. I hope that moving forwards, I can be as good of a man as you were, although that's a tough task. I want to carry on the Holden name in the best way I can and live life to the fullest just as you did.

I can thank you for so much, but I can't help but feel as if I owe you an apology as well. Firstly, I'm sorry I wasn't able to see you much once I started college. I would see you on Easter and on Christmas, but that wasn't enough and this past Easter really hit me hard not seeing you in your seat for the first time in my life. I wish I was able to see you more, and I wish I was able to say everything I'm writing to you in person. I wasn't even able to swing by and visit you on a day off, and I truly regret that now, so I'm sorry. I was busy but always thinking about you and Mimi and how you were both doing. There were a few bumps in the road in terms of health for you while I was away at college, and it scared me every time I heard the news, hoping that it wouldn't turn out with me not being able to say goodbye and I love you again. And then it did, and all those regrets of not checking in or going to visit really set in. So I am sorry, more than anything I've ever been sorry about, but just know that I was thinking of you all the time.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I miss you, and it hasn't fully set in with me that you're gone. I'm sure this Christmas I'll be ready for you to walk through the door, ready for the big breakfast and take your seat across from me. I've dealt with loss but not like this. I was younger then but only cried because I knew it was bad and that my parents were sad. But this time it's different. I cried because so much emotion set in at once. All the memories, all the regrets, all the grief. But now, myself, as well as the rest of the family, can look back at all the positives and tell stories of your hilarity and greatness. I'm glad you got to see me grow up, but there's still a lot more growth to come, and I hope that you will be proud of me and my decisions. I love you very much, and I'll miss you more than a silly letter will be able to express.

Love, Lucas