God I miss you. Today, as I think of you on your birthday, I am really starting to fear that my memories of you are slipping away. This July will be ten years since you’ve been gone. That’s a long time. Much as I try to cling to what I remember of you, it’s all beginning to fade away. I realized today that I can’t really remember what your voice sounded like, and I absolutely hate that. I don’t want to forget you. Sure, I have pictures and some memories that I know I can hold onto, but it’s not enough. I guess I can’t blame myself for getting older. I just hate to think that you’re looking down on me, sad that I’m forgetting so much about you. I want you to know how much I loved you. You and your big bear hugs and tickle fights meant more to me than I think you ever knew. I miss your big brown chair that you always sat in, Christmases at your house, and your yearly visits to our house. Days like today, I wish with everything that I have that I could have had more time with you, that you could see me today. But I know you see me. I have to believe that you are looking down on me, and I hope I can make you proud. I hope I have already.

For now, I guess I’ll try to hang on to my memories of you. You were, without a doubt, the best man I have ever known. I told my mom today that I think you’ve set a pretty high bar for any other men who come into my life. I’m not sure if anyone can top you, and I think that’s okay.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa. As you always used to say, love ya!