Grandpa Rich, in my eyes you were a good man. You always took me under your wing and cared for me. You were there when I needed you, but you kept secrets. Maybe it was to protect me, maybe you thought I was too young to know, too fragile to handle the truth. I remember going to your house during the summer, we would hear the peeper frogs and the birds chirping. There was always that warm summer breeze that would mess up my hair and blow leaves into the sky as we watched their silhouette pass by the bright orange sun. The color of a high burning flame or the warm embers of a dying fire.

The last time I saw you was at my birthday party, you were wearing your favorite olive green quarter zip sweater and your favorite tree bark colored cargo pants. I assumed you were doing well, I mean I was only 8 or 9 years old so how was I supposed to know…

Now a few years later my mother, father, and I are on our way to my grandfather’s house. As we pull into the driveway my father stops the car in their driveway then turns around to face me and then asks me,

“Do you remember your Grandpa Rich?” and I respond with, “Yeah why? Is he going to be there?”

My heart flutters with the thought of getting to see my grandfather. I get so excited to see him, I mean, I haven’t seen him in a few years. Then the awkward silence breaks out and my parents look at each other as if they didn’t expect for me to remember. How could I not remember him? He was my grandfather; I loved him. While all of these thoughts are running through my head my parents take a few seconds trying to figure out what to say. After a few moments of awkward silence my parents look to me and tell me that my grandfather has passed due to breast cancer. I knew he had breast cancer for a little while before he passed, but I never knew how bad it could be. I pressed my head up against the back of the passenger seat trying to understand what I was just told. After I had processed the information of my grandfather passing, they tell me that I can’t say anything about it around my younger cousin Jillian because she doesn’t remember him.

Holding back my tears is the hardest thing I have to do. The thoughts of not letting Jillian know that there is anything wrong is just putting more pressure on me and making it even harder to not cry. I have a lump in my throat from my holding my tears back, it feels as if I am holding up the hoover dam and at any moment it could collapse, and all my tears would come rushing down.

For the rest of the day and the time I was at their house I kept thinking of my grandfather and all the good memories I have had with him.

Later in the year I found out that he had hid having cancer from us for around 4 years. Why he kept it a secret from me, I don’t know. I was always told that families don’t have secrets and that we should all be honest with each other.Along with finding out that he had breast cancer for around 4 years before I knew. Then I found out that he passed about 6 months before I was told, he passed on Father's day, who knows maybe that was the best Father’s day gift we could’ve gotten him, just simply letting go.

A few months later I found out that my grandfather had passed on father's day. Why was I told so many months later? Why did nobody tell me that he was gone? How did my parents hide it? Why did they hide it from me? Maybe it was because they needed time to grieve. Maybe they didn't know how to tell me. Why didn't I get that? Why was I given the false hope of getting to see him again?

The way I found out when my grandfather actually passed, was by the tattoo my Uncle Todd got on his shoulder in memory of my grandfather. The tattoo is the pink breast cancer awareness flag and the date of my grandfather’s death. My parents never told me the details about how, why, or when he passed I just had to piece the information together with eavesdropping on conversations when my parents would talk about him.

When I would go to your house, you would usually be cooking dinner for us while I played with the dogs. You always had animal crackers and peanut m&m’s out in mason jars. We would watch the squirrels jump from branch to branch shaking off leaves as they go along. You taught me so many things like how to catch a fish, how to kayak, and how to cook. I remember when Samantha ,who was a small white chihuahua had puppies, I used to hold the puppies like babies and then they would bite at my hair, we all laughed and had a good time. I named one of the puppies Oreo; he was a small chihuahua puppy with his head and butt black and his torso a bright white-marshmallow white.

I remember at my old house you had to come over and take a snapping turtle out of the backyard, we lived near a pond so we saw turtles pretty regularly. After you put the turtle in the bed of your well loved silver pickup truck, my mom brought me out and sat me on the tailgate. I stood up on the tailgate to look at it. The turtle looked like a green and black moss covered rock, pretty bland. But that's besides the point, I guess what I'm trying to say here is that we have a lot of great memories and I love you. Even though you’re gone, your flame will never go out in my heart. Gone but never forgotten. A good man.

With love, Amanda