Every 27th, I don't feel right. Months seem to be flying by and I don't like it. It's means I am further from the last time I saw you. The last time I saw you smile, laugh and say you loved me. It's the last time I saw you as you. It's been six months since you passed Grandpa, and now I have to go on for the rest of my life.

Every 27th I lose a piece of me. I lose a part of my life a little more. I have to continue on and try to be happy, but I'd do anything for you to be here. There has been so many times I wish you were here to see everything that's happened. One of the biggest things to happen to me, I had to celebrate without you. I turned eighteen. I got accepted into the college you always wanted me to go to. I'm almost done with high school. And you're not here. You're not here to brag to everyone that I've done all of this. You're not here to cheer me on. You're just not here.

I only see you in my dreams or in the photographs. I can't see you every Monday or weekend anymore. I can't even see you play and sing at church on Sunday mornings one last time. As Justin Moore says in his song, Grandpa, you were the same man on Sunday morning as Saturday night.

While I'm crying as I write this, I know you'd tell me to stop. I know you're not hurting anymore, so I guess I'm happy for that. I just wish you were here a little bit longer.

I know how disappointed you'd be in the family. How upset it would make you to know what was said and done. I guess death really does show everyone's true colors. Maybe their own guilt attacks them everyday. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe they really did miss out on a great man in their lives. I guess it's their loss since I'm selfish. I got to enjoy all of you. I got to enjoy all the moments and laughs. I got to have assurance that you were in the crowd cheering me on, even if it was a band concert and you couldn't tell which flute was which. You were still there.

I love you to the moon and back. I know you'll be there when I graduate, just not physically.