Dear Mr. Kershaw,

First of all, I want to apologize for being mad at you the day you died. I had never had anyone so close to me pass away. I was young. I was 16 and I didn't understand death. I couldn't understand how someone who I saw every day and who I had just seen could be gone forever. I couldn't understand then, but I understand now. I understand now that sometimes in this life, there are those who are put on this earth to be a beacon of light in the darkness.

I understand that sometimes there are people who are meant to touch the lives of everyone they meet. I understand that life is short and we can be taken away at any moment, so we have to live purposefully and we cannot waste the one life we have.

I still think about you almost every day. I try very hard to embody the kind of person you were. I try to talk like you and act like you. I even try to have the same posture you always had. I see you in every one of my patients and in every stranger on the street. I see you in every one of us college students working hard to become something you would be proud of. I see you in all of us.

Your physical body may be gone, but your influence and example is very much alive and thriving in your students, your colleagues, your friends, your family, and most of all, your children.

I want to take some time out to thank you:

Thank you for being my role model.

Thank you for being my example of who I want to be.

Thank your for teaching me how to take it slow and steady.

Thank you for showing me that "Life is like a pizza pie. Take it one slice at a time."

Thank you for believing in me, and in all of us when we were too young to believe in ourselves.

Thank you for your silly jokes that made me and Stephanie laugh loudly and obnoxiously in class. "I write check marks backwards! I'm a backwards Czech, check!"

Thank you for teaching me how to appreciate people on a daily basis.

Thank you for teaching me the importance of Texan BBQ and for always wearing your TCU purple.

Thank you for the tough love that made me cry my eyes out the time I left the college fair without directly telling you. I learned the importance of direct communication.

Thank you for teaching me what it means to be a good and loving Catholic.

Thank you for always having a smile on your face, even when our class made you mad.

Thank you for never getting upset at one of us for forgetting the answer or yelling at us whenever it was obvious we didn't read last night's chapter.

Thank you for starting every day with, "Thank you guys so much for all being here on time today! Have I ever told you how much I appreciate y'all?" I never understood why you would begin every day by telling us the same thing, as if you didn't just tell us yesterday.

Thank you for your voice, so strong and powerful, yet always kind and gentle.

Thank you, most of all, for you eyes.

Thank you for the way you looked at each and every one of us, not just the students of your class, but the way you looked at every student. Your eyes were always so full of hope and you always only saw the potential in every one of us, even if we didn't see it ourselves. Even if we left lost and forgotten, even if we felt like we were failures or we were drowning, your eyes would always inspire hope in our hearts.

You were always willing to listen to us and talk to us through the hardest parts of life.

Your door was always open to us, no matter what.

You taught me the importance of eye contact, a strong handshake, being assertive, and being kind to every person you meet.

You taught me how to take the challenges of life head-on, fearlessly, and gratefully.

Thank you for being our teacher, our leader, and our guide.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart and through the tears in my eyes.

Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?