Recently, a tragedy has struck in my life that has pretty much stopped me in my tracks. Everything that once seemed important and urgent has been reduced to a mere shrug of my shoulders as it now feels, well, less important. If you have ever lost a loved one, you will understand where I am coming from, My Papa passed away a few weeks ago and though everyone has told me that I will get over it, I feel as if I never will. I wish I could have told him how much I always loved him and how he was there for me even at my worst, but I can't. It's heartbreaking. So, I thought I would write him a letter instead, and I pray that he will see it so he knows how much he still means to me.

To my sweet Papa,

From the earliest memories I have, you were always there in my life. You and Gaugie raised me as if I was your daughter, not your granddaughter. While other children saw their grandparents every month or perhaps only on holidays, I had the privilege to see you both every day. Whether it was picking me up from school while mom and dad were at work, to you teaching me how to pitch a softball, there was never a time that you weren't there for me. My favorite memories of you were going out to your farm with you so we could pick tomatoes and play with the goats (Mickey was always my favorite.) You taught me how to magically put a chicken to sleep and how to give shots to newborn calfs.

You didn't just teach me how to run a farm, you also taught me how to play softball, the sport I love so much. When you realized how much I couldn't stand soccer, you made it your mission to teach me softball, much like you taught mama. Except, instead of teaching me to be a catcher like you, you had dreams of me becoming a talented pitcher. Dad said he came home from work one day to see his little five year old learning how to throw a ball overhead from her mid- 70's granddad. Apparently it was a sight to see. You taught me so well in fact that the very first softball practice I had I threw the ball so hard at my throwing partner that I hit her in the head and knocked her out! You were always so supportive of everything I did in my sport. You came to every game, even when I started to play select ball in Dallas. You always introduced me as your left handed pitcher granddaughter, and I couldn't have been prouder when you called me that.

You also taught me some of the most important lessons I've learned in my life. You told me to always vote for myself if I thought I was the most qualified person for the job. You taught me that even though it's fun to play, it's more fun to win. You taught me to never buy something unless it was on sale and I needed it, to which you cleverly said "is it for sale...or on sale?" You taught me that blood was thicker than water and even when I was in trouble you would always be there for me. The few times I did get in trouble I always came crying to you first and you would look me in the eye and say "well that's ohhh-kay." You never got mad at me for anything.

You were always concerned about my health, from my multiple labral tear surgeries to the arthritis in my spine. In fact, in July when I was trying to teach my little cousin how to do a back bend standing up, you were so worried I would hurt my back that you got on to me for teaching her. I laughed and told you that you had nothing to be worried about. When I was little and sick, you would always be the first one to volunteer to take care of me until I felt better. When the time finally came that you were sick, I was more than happy to help mama take care of you. You had done so much for me that there wasn't any possible way I could say no.

Most of my favorite memories are with you, from you taking me to Mcdonald's after school to you making me a homemade Blue Bell vanilla milkshake or Coca Cola float (with a little extra vanilla extract to make it taste even better.) I loved to sing Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty duets with you as we waited for Gaugie to get out of the grocery store, and I loved watching Rangers games with you as you complained about the coaches not pulling a pitcher out when they weren't doing good. I loved watching Hee-Haw and I Love Lucy with you because we always laughed at the same parts. I loved to hear your stories you told me about when you were younger and owned a grocery store and taxi service with your older brother and best friend. Because while most kids my age didn't like to spend time with their grandparents, the highlight of each of my days was seeing you and you saying "ooooo boy," and when I left and told you "love ya Papa," you would say in my most favorite tone in the world "love youuu."

Unfortunately, we won't be able to do those things anymore, because you went away. I'll always be able to hold onto those memories, but it won't be the same since you're not here anymore. You weren't just my Papa, you were my best buddy, the one I knew I could go to for anything and everything. These past few weeks have been some of the most trying times I've had to deal with, but like you told mama, "sometimes you just gotta take the bull by the horns." Thank you for nineteen wonderful years of being the best Papa ever.

Love,

your little lefty

To everyone reading this article, I would like to give you advice that I am sure you've heard before. Please go spend time with your loved ones. Ask them to tell you stories about when they were younger, because more likely than not they are very interesting. Watch TV with them, like Wheel of Fortune or just the news. It will mean the world to them and you will have such good memories for years to come. Call them just because you want to, not because you have to. Always tell them how much you love them, because even if you think you do have enough time to do all of that stuff later, there's always the chance of the unthinkable happening. Even if you do actually do all that stuff, really think about how much it means to you to be able to do something as simple as having a chat. In the long run, your family is all you really have. Never settle for the bare minimum when it comes to family.

We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord- 2 Corinthians 5:8