Dear Dad,
It's the Holiday season again, and my birthday's coming soon. I turn twenty one this year, and you won't get to see it. You haven't been here for my sixteenth birthday, my eighteenth birthday, and now my twenty first. You've missed all the milestones, all the holidays, all the family memories, but it's not your fault, the cancer was not going to relent until it took you over. It doesn't mean I still don't miss you everyday, it doesn't mean I don't sit on the couch every Christmas Eve and cry knowing that you and my brother won't be opening presents with us. It doesn't mean that this year when I'm at the bar drinking my first legal Shiner, I won't be thinking of you sitting next to me drinking one too. I cherish all the birthday memories we made, but I wasn't done, I had so many more I was looking forward to. Birthday's aren't where the pain ends, your passing day, your birthday, those days hurt, but when I wake up on Christmas and you're not sitting there with the smug look on your face knowing you and my mom got me the perfect gifts, everything I wanted and then some, it's a pain I could never express, and something I wouldn't wish on anyone. I strive to be half the man you were, I want to give to my own family everything you gave us, you were a provider, a secure man in your faith, able to admit where you were wrong. You were the beacon of the gifts of intangibles, you pushed me to my limits, and you're why I hold myself to such a high standard. I have a legacy to protect for you, and I promise not to let you down. The gifts of love, of being the protector, the strength you showed, are better than any wrapped present I could have ever opened. I can't wait see you again and to talk about how good the Raiders are this season. I love you and miss you more with every passing day and I hope you're proud of who I've become.
Love,
The Man You Raised Me To Be
