I was going through my pictures on my phone other day to clear storage space, and I found it to be so full of emotions and nostalgia and memories. As I went through pictures, I missed people and things that I love. I was reminded of so many things that happened that I missed, people I missed, places I want to go back to but what hit me the most was the impact the people you love have on you. I realized that when you love someone, every little thing they resembled and cared about is going to remind you of them. And when you love someone, and you lose them, it's never going to get easier.

Time heals everything; at least that's what people say. But I have come to realize and to accept that it's different when you love someone. I came across a picture of the piece I had written about my Grandpa. I read the words, and my body was overcome with sadness, emptiness, and a void all over again. I was crying for two reasons: the obvious one, because I miss the heck out of him every single day, but secondly, because I realized how much my life resembles the life he gave to me. I realized that in the people I surround myself with, the accomplishments I reach for, the way I carry myself, the things I laugh at, the life I put into myself--it consists of everything my Grandpa was. The morals he instilled in me, the humor he so joyously carried around with him, the lessons he taught me, and the person he always believed me to be. I realized, with each word and characteristic I read, were things that he built me.

My Grandpa was one full of life, full of laughter, full of wisdom, and with a heart that was full of so much love for his friends and family. He stood up for what he believed in, distanced himself from what brought him down, but loved with his whole freaking heart for the people and things he cared about.

I miss our phone calls and letters that gave me so much pride to be one of his family, and that gave me a reason to believe. I miss when I had a problem the words of wisdom and reassurance he always had to offer. I miss him screaming to coaches in my favor, and being the first to call me on my birthday, or to call just to remind me that he was proud of me. Ultimately, I miss the words of his big heart, and the pride he carried for his family, and the bond we could share for so many years.

But today, I am thankful. I am thankful for the memories, and the morals, and the lessons, and the laughs, and the phone calls and letters I can reminisce on. I am thankful for the heart he had, and for the life he showed me was possible to search for, the one that is so worth living with a smile. My Grandpa is a man of kindness, of passion, of just, and of love. I am thankful, because thanks to him, I can surround myself with people and things that remind me of this, that resemble this.

Time doesn't heal it. When you love someone, there is nothing that heals that. But when you love someone, you have a reason to be thankful. Thankful for the love, and the lessons, and the memories. I have accepted that I will still cry on the holidays I miss him, I will still cry when something reminds me of him, I will still cry when I reread letters and listen to his voicemails, and that is OK.

When you love someone, you don't heal, you learn. You learn to seek that love in the people you surround yourself with, and you learn to make them proud in the same ways they always used to remind you about. You learn to be the person they embodied. Sadness will always be there, the void will always be there, but so will the chance to share countless stories, and memories you have with them. So will the chance to yearn to have half as big of a heart as they did, and love your family and friends with the same unwavering passion they did. It never gets easier when you love someone.