Dear Grandpa,
I wish I could still talk to you, because honestly, I miss you with all my heart. We never really spoke much. You always intimidated me. Not because you were mean or anything, but I always felt like maybe you wouldn't like me. It’s ridiculous I know, but that’s how I felt. Now I wish I would have had the courage to actually have a conversation with you. For that last year, after you were diagnosed with cancer,  I felt like my heart was being shredded into little tiny pieces every time I saw you and your hair was more gray and balding, your eyes changed from green as fresh cut grass to black as a roaring storm. You got sicker and sicker, and there was nothing I could do about it. In that last year I visited you every Sunday, in anguish, not knowing if today was the last day or if you had  another week. I've never admitted this to anyone but in that last year I almost wished that you would die faster, just so the pain for everyone would be over. I despise myself for ever wanting that. I remember the day you got so sick you couldn't make it up the stairs anymore and had to stay down in the basement. That was the day I stopped hoping that you would get better.
I know grandma misses you. She doesn't cry anymore, but she reminisces about you all the time. Every Sunday at dinner, something would remind her of you, and she’d get this look on face as if recalling that moment. I find myself having to look away every time it happens. The day I remember better than any day in my entire life was the day you passed away. We drove over to your house to find everyone already there. Zach and Aunt Kelley were in tears, as was everyone else. Then my mom started crying. Before then, I had never seen her cry. She sobbed and sobbed, and the tears just kept coming. Rolling down her face like glaciers. That was the moment I decided I was not going to cry. I thought by doing this I was being strong for everyone. I felt that I needed to hold my family together. But really, it didn't matter, because you were gone and everything was falling apart.

           Love,
           T.K.