The first time I sat in your living room, I couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old. My family and I had just moved in down the street. There were children my age for me to play with, but I never really connected with them, as I was always more mature than my peers.

I connected with you and your wife instead.

I remember sitting in that small shop, listening to the radio, just talking. We talked about everything under the sun while making new bullets from old ones. You were always so interested in everything little ole' me had to say. Whether it was about school, complaining about Philip, or just talking over a few life lessons. It was great fun, believe it or not, and I cherish those memories now more than ever.

I wish I could have one more day. One more day to sit with you in that shop and talk over the soft sounds of the radio. One more chance to give you a hug or hear you laugh. One more walk down the road to see you and Sweetie, maybe shoot the pistol Daddy bought me for Christmas. The chance to see your truck coming down the road and know that you were going to stop by and visit, even if just for a moment. I wish I could still have the comfort of knowing that you would check in on my mom while Dad was overseas and maybe bring over some fresh fruit or something for Philip.

Thank you for taking in my brother as well. While I did it much sooner than he did, when I became "too busy" to go by a visit, he took my place. You and my father taught that boy how to shoot. I felt jealous for a time knowing that between band, showing horses, and school, I didn't have the chance to go with them every time the two of them went down to the range. I hope I never again have to see the hurt in his eyes that I did for the few days before and after your funeral but I know it was because he loved you and would miss you.

I thought that I would never hear the familiar sound of gunshots from down the road again. However, since Drew has taken over Freedom Firearms, I take comfort in hearing it when there's a class. I took comfort in being in the shop again and hearing that same old radio playing the same station it always did when I took a class myself and Drew oiled my new pistol for me, the same way you had if you would've been able to.

It came as a shock for all of us. I don't think I'll ever forget that day, or the feeling when Mom told me what had happened after we left the Project Graduation skeet shoot. I'll never forget the feeling of hearing those 21 guns or seeing the flag being handed to Mrs. Cheryl. It's been a hard two years my friend, but I'd like to give you a short update on all of us.

Philip and Dad are as close as ever and they go hunting or shoot skeet whenever they can. I hope you heard Philip when he went to visit you the other day and know I look forward to going soon just to talk. Mom misses you checking in on her, as I'm sure we all do. Dad talks about you sometimes, especially when we talk about gun safety (again) or talk about going to shoot with Drew at the range. My Dad even kept the cork from the wine bottle he drank for you after he heard the news while he was in Paris. I've moved out now, trying to be independent and get out there on my own. However, I try my best to make weekly trips out to that dead-end road and visit with my family. College is good, but I wish you could've been here to see me the day I graduated, even though I know you were watching from upstairs. I keep your card in my car so that I always have my angel with me and to never drive faster than you can fly.

We all miss you Pudgy. Fly high friend. Keep watch over us and we'll see you when we get where we're going. Love you.