I remember: My tears and screams of sadness when leaving you after spending a three-week vacation with my favorite people, it will forever be a internal stain. My huge smile when running into your arms after not seeing you for months and finally feeling your touch. The drives down the long Texas highways in the back of the Ram pickup hauling the camper to our next adventure on the Texas coastline. I can still smell the brand-new leather in the truck and how we drove until we could not smell the burning fuel of the semi’s surrounding us. I can still hear the 60s music playing in the background along with the quiet hums. I loved surprising you. I loved showing you the millions of underwater flips I could do in a row. I especially loved when we messed with the funny filters on your iPad, and then you tickled me until I could not laugh and scream anymore. I miss you, I miss my favorite people together. 

Your disease took you. It took my two favorite people too. It consumed everyone’s lives in our family. The constant talk of what the next step would be were the conversations I dreaded overhearing. It was a seven-year disease. I still remember when we used to go out to eat when you were able. I still remember the excitement and joy I had when you told us you were moving to Sioux Falls, but I also remember the fear in my eyes as I walked into your room to your pale skin and bones at the end. There was a moment at the end where you asked me to get you ice because that is all you could eat. My hand was shaking as I fed you because I knew it would be one of the last times I would do something for you, and it was. I fell asleep on your bed the two nights before you left us. You were wearing an LHS golf shirt that I got you for Father’s Day. Papa, you were my biggest supporter. I always asked for you to never leave but eventually, you did. I know you are watching over us now, but it still hurts not having you here. 

Grandma, although you won’t admit it, the disease took a part of you too. We used to go to water aerobics, and I sat in the clothing store plopped down with a book while you took your class. Then we would go to Sonic and get our favorite foods and then go home and eat and watch our favorite TV shows on Disney Channel, which you were not a fan of but still let me watch. I watched firsthand the disease consume you. I watched you try and do everything. I heard the sadness in your voice at the end. You have taught me the most. You taught me how to bake, how to sew, make a bed and practically everything from A-Z. There is no one I would rather be told that I am just like than you. I already lost one half and I do not think I could handle losing the other half of the dynamic duo that changed my life. You are nowhere near leaving us, and please never do. 

 – Kin