Six years without you is far too long, Papa. I miss our Dunkin Donuts runs on Sunday mornings. You always knew to get extra chocolate frosted donuts with sprinkles because they were (and still are) my favorite. You came home with the most random items from work and reused them as gifts. I still have a pile of the colorful bendy figures you often found. When I was put in timeout with my head against the wall, you always came over and mimicked me to make me laugh even though I was angry. Your silly antics never failed to put a smile on my face.

You were hard-working and caring, and I admired your lighthearted attitude and love for your family. This should go without saying, but that love was reciprocated, and we were here for you until your very last day.

I was 11 years old when you passed away too soon, and I am writing this now at 18. It has been an emotional rollercoaster during these transitional years, and I wish more than ever that you could be here to watch me grow. I wanted you to watch me fall in love with a sport. I wanted you to help me through my first heartbreak (and maybe trash talk my ex, too). I wanted you to see me walk across the stage at graduation. I wanted you to see me go off to college and persue my passion. I wanted you to be front row at my wedding. I wanted you to be here through it all.

I used to not talk about you much. Then one night, I decided to open up. I was talking to a friend for hours about you. Years of memories flooded my mind, and I just had to tell someone. I remembered the goofy faces you would make when I pulled on your ears and pushed your nose. I revealed that I am named after you. I talked about the resemblance between you and your brother. It makes me so incredibly happy to see him because of the similarities I see in his face. I see you in every aspect of his appearance.

Talking certainly eased the bottled up pain. However, nothing will ever take away the pain I hold on to from the fact that I never got to say goodbye. The thief, the cancer, took you far before your time. I just wish I would have beat it.

I am grateful for the most amazing guardian angel. I know you're watching over me and our family. Nana visited recently, and she read a poem I wrote about you, "Live My Life For You." I certainly hope I am making you proud the way I am living. Mom found old journal entries you wrote; one in particular is now forever a part of my skin. I am proud to walk around with a little piece of you forever and always.

I am thankful for the advice, lessons, and knowledge you gave me in our short amount of time together. I will cherish every moment we spent together, I will laugh and smile at the numerous amount of pictures we have, and your spirit will live on in this family.

I miss you and I love you.

Until we meet again.