It's been less than a week since you left us, and it's still hard to comprehend what has happened. For years you were there whenever we needed you. You were always lending a helping hand. You always looked out for others, and maybe that's what took you from us.

How, after almost 19 years of you constantly being there for me, am I supposed to continue? How does my family go on without our Suzie telling us when we need to be whipped into shape?

I don't have that answer, but I know that as long as we have Chico that we won't fall by the wayside. I want you to know that we will be taken care of. He loves us just as you did, and we love him in return just as we loved you. I'm sure, even now, that you're concerned about us being taken care of. You were always looking out for others before yourself. Why couldn't you let someone else care for a chance? I wish you would've just taken a break. I miss you.

It's just wishful thinking because I know that wasn't who you were, and I know that you would never ask for this hurt to come upon any of us.

It feels so surreal. How are you gone?

The woman in that casket was not you. It will never be the image of you that I will remember. You, so vibrant and vivacious and her, so tired and lifeless. That is not and will never be the you I remember. She wasn't you, and that's what makes this so much harder to comprehend.

You taught us all so much. You taught us how to love. You taught us how to stay committed and what a loving relationship looks like. You taught us how to be loyal to the people we love, even when they've wronged us. You taught us to care just a little too much and how enriching that would make our lives.

I was talking to my mom a few days ago when she said, "It feels like I lost a brother and a sister this year." Since you've left us, I've just been referring to you as my aunt because "family friend" is not representative of who you were to me and my family. I don't even know if Aunt does it justice, though. You were my friend, my aunt, my babysitter, my grandma and maybe even a second mom rolled all into one.

As I'm writing this, my head goes to a song from "In the Heights" titled "Everything I Know." The song is about a girl who lost the woman who taught her everything she knows. I know you'd disagree, but the more I think about it, that's what you did for us.

"Every afternoon I came, she'd make sure I did my homework."

For years, you babysat my sister and me after school alone with your grandchildren. I remember this being one of the only times I did my homework before 8 or 9 at night. Maybe you didn't eliminate my genetic tendency to procrastinate, but you sure tried, and that's all that matters.

"She saved everything we gave her, every little scrap of paper and our lives are in these boxes."

This doesn't exactly correlate to our lives, as we all know you were the one always trying to get my family (mostly my mom) to get rid of all those unnecessary papers. Still, you knew what was important and always made sure to put it somewhere special.

"The woman who held us is gone but we go on, we grow."

As much as I really don't want to just go about my daily life, I know that's what you would want. I know how proud you were about where I've gotten myself. I know you would never let anything hinder my education here.

"If you're up there I'll make you proud of everything I know."

"Thank you for everything I know."

Until we meet again.