Papaw,
I'm sad to say I don't remember much about you. I hear wonderful stories of how much we adored each other when I was little. After all, I was your first granddaughter and you were my only grandfather. Mom usually tells me about the time we were playing in the kitchen floor and you accidentally pulled my arm out of socket. I wish she would tell me more about our time together. I wish you were here to tell me stories. I was so young when you lost your battle with cancer. I hardly even remember the funeral. I get so jealous of friends who still have their grandparents. I know you have plenty of company with you now, and I know eventually I will join you. Until then though, Papaw, I want you to know that I love you and I miss you.
Love,
Kirsty
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