Hey Dad,

It feels like it has been so long since the last time I saw you...alive, at least. It feels like it happened a million years ago, but still feels like it happened yesterday. It really happened so fast and I just wish I had an opportunity to say goodbye, even though no one had a chance to. The last "goodbye" we all had with you was a "see you soon" goodbye or "I'll see you in the morning" goodbye. Well, I saw you in the morning, but you didn't exactly see me from your body's eyes.

I want you to know I really miss you a lot. It's scary to think that you don't really know me anymore. You knew me my whole life until I was 14, almost 15, years old. I'm so much different now. I am obviously older, less awkward looking, and went through high school and am halfway done with college. While I am a lot different than the eighth grade Kayla you knew, a lot is still the same. My Demi Lovato obsession is still going strong; I assume you will be pleased to know I got to meet her. I am still bad at math. And I still love you as much as I have ever loved you.

I always joke that you would have an episode if you saw me now. I am almost 21, I am a woman now, and I like to wear crop tops. And dating? That would be a nightmare if you were here. You always made me listen to "Cleaning this Gun" by Rodney Atkins for a reason...But you did handle my little crushes at 14 years old relatively well; you just happened to point out the deer head hanging from the tree. No biggie.

I always try to keep your traditions alive. I listen to Toby Keith, wear my camo, and even have a deer tattoo in your memory (sorry, but you knew I wanted tattoos anyway). I even have been known to get a wee bit emotional while listening to "Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue" and "American Solider" by Toby Keith. I have a bag of your clothes on the top shelf in my closet. I also have a plaster covered sweatshirt in a separate bag (no, I will never wash it). I listen to the silly recordings I took of you saying weird things months before you died. I still thank God every day that I was that weird kid who would just randomly record the weird things you would say.

"We will not parish in this world, for we have... A package of pizza bites!" (said heroically) that time Mom left us pizza bites for dinner while she went to work and you decided to tease her about it.

Mom still has your truck you bought right before you left. The thing has 270,000 miles on it and she refuses to give it up. There is an empty package of your cigarettes (almost six years old) in the back of the truck that no one wants to take out and throw away. Your floor matts, steering wheel cover, license plate cover and even one of your pens are still in the truck, just how you left it. We try our best to keep you alive.

Going through high school without you was hard. I had my Sweet 16 without you. I got my license without you. I became a CNA without you. I got accepted to college without you. It sucks. You picked a great wife though; she is doing an amazing job. While I do miss you and wish you were there through that, we are definitely not deprived because of all that Mom does.

It's sad that I dread my wedding when I don't even have a boyfriend because I know my dad won't be there to walk me down the aisle. But Mom will do that just as well as you would have. It's sad that I worry that my children will never have the chance to meet their grandfather, who would have been the best grandfather in the world. But Mom, Boo, and I will share so many stories they will know you without ever having met you.

But I do know you will always be with me throughout my whole life, no matter what I do or where I choose to go.

Thank you for all you did for me while you were here and thank you for everything you do for me today, even if it is not as physical and direct as it was before. I have no doubt in my mind you are still here somehow and certain things that happen are not coincidences or miracles, but little bits of help here and there from wherever you are.

The most comforting thing I learned from you is that "it is what it is." You said that so many times I couldn't even keep count. So that's what I try to tell myself now: it is what it is.

You will always be the master hunter, fisherman and the master at "I'm a Little Tea Pot".

I love you always,

Love Rosey

(aka Muggsie, Moomie) xo

David DiSalvatore

September 1, 1962 - July 13, 2010