Hi Pops,

Man, the doctors weren't exaggerating when they said you can prepare for a person's death, but never really be ready for it. But now, I officially have the greatest guardian angel looking out for me, and I wouldn't want anyone else but you putting in a word with the big man for me.

When the phone rang with the hospital's number on the caller ID, my heart dropped. The time had come. It was time to officially say goodbye to my best friend for the past seventeen years. We knew it would be any day now, but we can never really truly be prepared for it. Knowing you weren’t going to be able to attend my graduation from high school that May made me burst into tears. Knowing that our Sunday traditions of ordering in and watching the race together were no longer going to be possible, made me feel sick. You were my best friend first, and my uncle second. No one can replace you, and no one ever will.

Growing up, you were always there for me. You were a walk down the street and a knock on the door. No matter what was going on, I could always count on you. I could relate to you on more levels than one, and you were always a great listening ear.

Not only were you my first best friend, but you also introduced me to a sport that I have now fallen in love with watching together, NASCAR. Rather, we were together lounging on the couch every Sunday yelling at the TV or on the phone talking to each other through the race, it was our thing. You joked with me every time one of our drivers had a cruddy race, and you were always right there to make fun of me as I jumped around the living room after my driver won. We bonded over a sport we love. And I knew that as soon as I was old enough, that I wanted to bring you to the track, even though that by then you were already very sick. Whether you could see everything or not, I wanted it to be you that I shared that amazing experience with; and I will forever be grateful that we were able to experience a race in real life... together.

Looking back, the day after your surgery is a day I will never forget. It’s the day we learned you would never see anything again. I was only nine at the time. So for the next eight years, you would only remember me as the little nine year old that would shove her feet on your lap whenever there was a caution on the racetrack. However, we did not let that stop us. Once you were released from the hospital, we all fell right back into our traditions. I was always at your house bright and early on Sundays to help you get ready and watch the race together or calling your phone every two minutes for a lap by lap replay; we were told to keep routines as normal as possible. However, you didn’t know how much it hurt me to see you in that state, and how I would always pray that you would somehow miraculously get better.

Consciously knowing that we did not know how much time we had left together made each weekend with you that much more memorable. The doctors gave you months, but the stubbornness imbedded inside you helped you stay with us for eight more years. However, the time we had together would never be enough. A little over two years after your death, I still hope and want for the phone to ring after a race and for it to be you. I still hope that you are watching the races alongside me. Though things are different now without you, I still hope for those things. And I will always consider you my best friend and the greatest uncle until the day I die. I'm a lucky girl to have you as her uncle.

I love you, more than you'll ever know. And I will forever hold the memories we had together close to my heart. My only wish is that we had a bit more time together. You were an amazing friend, brother, uncle, father, and grandfather. And us kids all pray we are continuously making you proud, and living up to the family name. You will never be forgotten Pops, I love you.

Love always,

Your Favorite Niece.

(Don't worry, I won't let the others know I'm the favorite)