I remember when I was younger, I used to sit on his lap in the living room, and every few minutes he would tickle me, or pretend to sneeze like Donald Duck and he would bounce his leg so it was like being on a mini roller coaster. When I was just a little girl he would put me in my toy car/stroller thing, and push me down the street. Then, as I got older, I was allowed to help him in the garage, and to mow the lawn. We would head out early in the morning, and I would use my tiny hammer and screwdrivers and "finish" tightening and hammering down nails and screws. Then lunch time would come, and I'd get his blood sugar kit, and he'd see if he could eat. If we could, I went to Grandma and she made us sandwiches and brought us cold juice. Those days, people said I followed him around like a puppy, or a baby duckling. I loved my Grandpa.

When I was about 10 years old, Grandpa told me he had cancer. I cried and cried, not understanding why it would happen to him. But he reassured me that he had lots of time left, and that we could make the best of it. He wasn't even mad or upset about what was going on. He just smiled, and said "God has a plan for me. He has a plan for all of us". I didn't believe him, I was mad at this "God". I didn't want to believe that he would let something so terrible happen!

Last year, in September, he was scheduled for a bone marrow transplant. It was supposed to extend his life up to 6 years. But it didn't work, and his body rejected the marrow. He got extremely sick, and there was nothing the doctors could do. Grandpa wasn't upset. He said, "I'm going Home". He was so happy, knowing he was going to meet Jesus.

October 23, 2012, my grandpa went to Heaven. I was so sad, but so happy for him, knowing that he got was he knew was coming. He took the struggle, the pain, the sorrow, and eventually death, as something to be proud of. He was a fighter. He fought for and defended his faith, and I couldn't look up to anyone more than I did and still do, my grandpa.

Today was Father's Day, and it was my first one without him being here with us, and it was difficult. I went to the cemetery and played my guitar for him. I know he was listening. He said he would never leave me. I believe him.