The first five years of my life were the best years of my life. I was growing up in the country, riding four-wheelers with my dad, playing with my animals, running around barefoot in the grass- that was a good life to the young country girl I was. The bond I had with my dad was one I never thought I would lose.. until I lost it at 5 years old.

The morning of September 1, 2005, was the day my heart was broken. I was told the words that no little girl wanted to hear; "Daddy went to heaven." Being a 5 year old, I didn't know what that meant. It took me forever to stop asking when daddy was gonna come back?

Once I realized my dad really wasn't gonna come back, I began to shut everyone out. If you can imagine a depressed 5-year-old-- that was me. Nothing made me feel better, all I wanted was to have my daddy drive me around on the four wheeler one more time, play pretend with me one more time, and just give me a hug ONE MORE TIME.

For months I wasn't happy, I didn't smile, I didn't laugh, I didn't even cry. I just kind of sat there.. wishing my daddy was there with me. After a while, I began to smile a little more and laugh a little more. I began to realize that my life had to go on, even when my dad's life didn't.

As time went on, I began to realize my dad never left me. He was always going to be with me; in my heart. I pray every day and talk to him, I visit his grave, I make sure to remember him even on the toughest days. Everything I do, I do it in honor of my dad, I do it with the thought of making him happy.

There are times that the pain gets unbearable; times that I don't want to get out of bed and I just want to stay in bed and remember the times I had with him. Those are the times I miss him the most. His birthday, Father's Day, and the anniversary of his death are always going to be harder on me because I remember that he isn't here and that I won't see him again.

I always try to remember the good times, rather than focus on the fact that he is not here anymore.

No one understands how the children who have lost parents feel until they know the feeling themselves. You can try to explain the pain to them, the feelings you have about it, but they will never know how it feels until it happens to them.

That's the only way to explain it to people; "You won't know the pain I feel until you go through what I've gone through."

The pain is terrible. It hurts and it will always hurt. Days will come that it hurts worse than others but the pain does get easier. At any age when you lose a parent, it will hurt, it will hurt like hell.

I'm not going to sugar coat it; it will hurt like HELL. It will get easier eventually, you will learn to focus on the time you had with your parent and not focus on the times that were taken from you.