Lately, I have really been thinking about what my life was like growing up. I keep asking myself, "how was I so happy?" "What am I doing differently that is making me so sad?" Well, I realize that it wasn't me at all. It's that the two most important people in my life were taken from me. That made all of the difference. When I was growing up, I spent every waking moment with my great-grandparents. I would take every chance I could to get to their house. Always begging to get off the school bus there or always trying to tag along on their adventures.

Well I guess I should start from the very beginning. Right after I was born in October, their son, my grandfather, got very very sick. He had an Aoritic Aneurism. And it didn't kill him right away. We had a lot of heartbreak in that short few months. And everyone loved the baby who had no understanding of what was happening and kept the atmosphere a little less sad. After he passed that February, Ma and Papa focused a lot of their attention on me. They came and picked me up every single night so my mom could have her "me time." We lived right up the street from each other so this became an every night thing. As I grew older, I never wanted to spend time with anyone else. They would go to the country music every Wednesday and it became something that I tagged along with. Even as I got into school. I would get brought even though mom said I wasn't supposed to.

As I grew up, they followed me every step of the way. Were there for me on my first day of kindergarten. Were there for every concert that I performed in. Many sporting events that I got to be a part of, because my Ma brought me to sign up. Were there for my first day of middle school. Picked me up when I was sick. The summer before I got into high school, the lord decided that he needed my Ma up there. I couldn't understand what I could have done to deserve that heartbreak. She was my best friend. I couldn't wrap my head around her not being there anymore. This was six years ago, and I still can't wrap my head around it. It's like another world that I refuse to be a part of.

My Papa lived a lot longer. He got to see me go to prom, and graduate and even got to meet my first real love. When I did lose my Papa though, I really couldn't understand anything. They were my childhood. The only other person besides me who could remember those amazing memories. When I lost my Papa, I started to think why? Why are we placed at the tail end of the most important people lives. My Ma and Papa were 79 and 83 years old when they died. That means they had so much life ahead of that, that I didn't get to be a part of. I understand that they were my great-grandparents and that my mother had a lot of time with them that I didn't. For that I will always hold a grudge. Why couldn't I have had that? I would have done anything for that time with them. At the same time, I am a big believer in the butterfly effect. Which is everything to do with time. Maybe, if I would have came at a different time in their life, our relationship wouldn't have been as great. It wouldn't have had the same great memories.

Regardless, I am thankful for the time I did have with them. I have their handwriting tattooed on my back, so I will always have them with me forever.