Before you left, I never thought about what life would be like without you. I never dreamt of the day I had to wake up without you and hope you would magically appear, ready to spend the whole day together doing something fun. But as I sit in bed, trying to fall asleep, I think of you. I think of all the wonderful memories we shared and what you might be doing now. I hope you are doing well because it has been years since the last time I saw you, almost 10. I know you are in a much better place, but sometimes, down here on Earth it isn't such a great place without you. Somehow, when you were here, the whole room lit up with your smile and your eyes never had more sparkle in them. The way you carried yourself, the way you talked to other people with such kind words, and the way you held me when I needed a hug... it is that that I miss the most. We used to be together almost everyday and many times, I never wanted to leave when I had to go.

Papa, you were the man. The hero who had a big part in preparing me for who I am today.

When the cancer took over you, I was so little I wasn't sure how to react. What was cancer? Can it really destroy someone the way it did you? Did you feel it take over your body or did you cry at times when no one was watching? Because the way you held yourself in front of me, you were superman.

You never got choked up. You never stopped smiling or laughing. And most importantly, you didn't let the sickness ruin the relationship between us. You were a man who still ran to the store to find that coloring book I was really wanting, or got up at 6am just to take me to Waffle House on a Saturday morning even though the cancer in you was lit up like a Christmas tree. You made an effort to be someone I could look up to and someone who was able to show me what true strength was.

The day you died, the whole family gathered around you by your bed at Hospice. I was the only one who didn't. I was way too nervous to look at you, not because I didn't love you, but because on that one particular day, to me, you weren't the you I knew. You were weak, and I could practically see the energy you had being squeezed right from you. So I stood in the corner, away from your view, as you laid there. It had been what felt like hours of everyone standing around you, waiting, until finally, I gained some courage and walked up to you. To be honest, I was hurt, mad, that you were leaving me. But the second I walked up to you, something bittersweet, but amazing happened. I don't know what it was, but to me, it was like you were not going to leave until I was the last person you saw. And in your weakest moment, you gained every ounce of strength back just to grin from ear to ear at me one last time. And then, just like that, you were gone. Part of me wants to believe that it was all me you saw because we were best friends, and the other part of me wants to believe that when you saw me, Jesus showed up right beside me holding out his hand.

I guess what I really want to say is thank you. Thank you for being someone I could look at and everything would be okay, even on your very last day, you taught me that there is always something to smile about, to be thankful for, and to always find the greatness in a scary, tragic, and terrible situation.

Thank you for still being someone who I can look at an old picture of you, and be proud of who you were and how many times you made me happy. A lot of the time, I wonder if you are praising Jesus or if the thought of Earth ever pops in your head. I have a feeling when I am doing something really important, like taking a big test, graduating, in a situation I need help with, or when I get married one day, you just take a seat beside Jesus and say that's my girl. And Jesus probably nods and says, mine too.