I swear, there's no one in this galaxy that I would rather hang around with all day than my Papa.

We always had fun, even when I was little. He would take me to the Hoboken Club on Sunday mornings before Sunday dinner and would buy me potato chips and a Coke. I'd sit on his lap at the bar with all his friends, watching sports on the TV. As a young girl, I knew my sports. His friends would be so impressed by my knowledge, and he'd be so proud to show me off.

He'd swim with me in the pool in the summer, play pretend with me as I scattered all my toys around his clean living room, and I'd beg him to teach me how to catch, which was clearly a skill I did not inherit from him. If anyone knew my Grampa, he absolutely loved baseball. He just didn't love it, he was a local legend. He played legion ball and led them to countless victories. He was kind of a ladies man. He married the pretty cheerleader, excelled at sports, went to Dean College. He went on to play for the Milwaukee Braves. We still have his baseball card, and I think that pretty much qualifies him to be in the running for the coolest grandfather in the world. His picture was hung in the hall of fame at my high school near the gym for his achievements in baseball, football, and basketball. Everyone would always ask me how he was, and I was so happy to talk about him.

He loved my grandmother, Boomie, so so much. I remember their 50th wedding anniversary in 2007 like it was yesterday. We had a huge party for them at the Hoboken Club (Where else would we have it?!). They were so happy and in love, and I've never seen a happier or stronger love than the love they had. This year would've been their 60th anniversary. It's so rare to hear that nowadays.

He was always looking out for me and cheering me on. He came to my figure skating events, no matter how cold the rink was, and no matter how much his knee was bothering him. I remember one year at the District Championships, I looked over in the corner near the bleachers as I was warming up on the ice, and saw my Grampa standing right along the boards, watching me and waiting to cheer me on. When I learned to drive, he was always checking up on my progress. He even had a car lined up for me when I got my license.

He started getting sick in the summer of 2015. He was in and out of the hospital for a little, and no matter how busy I was with work or friends, I would always make time to stop at the hospital to sit with him and watch a game show he would complain endlessly about, and hear him talk about how excited he was to come home. He was so optimistic, and it really brought light to the situation. He was really, really strong. He had been through so much, so many surgeries, numerous medical conditions. I knew he could get through it. He ALWAYS got through it. He was one of the strongest men I ever knew.

I was heading to Bridgewater State for Halloween in 2015. I was excited, I was just deciding that I wanted to enroll the next year, and was excited to see the social aspect of it all for the holiday. Papa was in a rehab center in town and just came back from the hospital, and was doing a lot better. I went to visit him, ecstatic about going to BSU for the night. He kept reminding me to be careful, and I kept reminding him to get better. "I'll be home tomorrow, I promise," he said to me. I promised him I would be careful, and I'd see him at home tomorrow.

November 1st, 2015. I came home from my night and no one was home. My mom told me Papa was in the hospital again. It wasn't looking good this time, and I needed to come to the hospital right away.

All my family members were there. Everyone he loved. It still doesn't feel real, to this day. I was so confused. He was able to get through anything. He could overcome it. He told me he would be coming home.

It took awhile for everything to sink in. He was my last living grandparent. It was difficult for everyone in our family, and his friends, to process.

It took awhile for me to realize, he did go home the next day. He went home to my grandmother, Boomie. He wasn't the same since the day she left us. I knew we would all see him again one day. But that one day wasn't right now, and right now sucked.

We do everything we can as a family to keep his spirit living on. We took shots of Sambuca for him (his favorite, besides Coors Light), and all four grandchildren surprised my aunt and my mom and got matching tattoos with his baseball number, 7, in a baseball with angel wings. He would've killed us if he saw it, but we loved it.

I wish he could see me graduate high school and go to college, and see my cousin's children grow up. I wish he could see me get married, and watch my children grow up too. I am more than grateful for the time I had with him. We all miss him everyday. He was amazing, and I'll always be thankful for everything he was to me.

We love you and miss you papa. I hope there's Coors Light, golf, and Judge Judy playing on a repetitive loop for you in heaven.