Dear Mark,

Sometimes when I enter the doors of church and walk into the room to say my hello’s, I still expect to see you lift your head up and give me a huge smile like you always did. My mind still tricks me into thinking you are going to walk over and instantly ask how I was doing. When my mind tunes back into reality, my heart drops, knowing you aren’t really there.

I wish I had told you how much you really meant to me. You were like a father I didn’t really have and I wish I had told you that. In all honesty, you were the most understanding and heart-filled guy I knew. There wasn’t a single mean bone in you. I want to tell you that I have learned so much from you. You were so wise and always put other people first. Hearing about your sickness was devastating but I was happy to hear how much healthier you were getting. Although you missed many weeks of church, you came back strong and confident.

Then, the one week I missed church because I was visiting my dad, your time was up and you were gone. When my mom called me to tell me, I couldn’t stop crying. I wish I could have said goodbye. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. You were supposed to live! You were getting better, so what went wrong?

Right now, I wish I could ask you how it is up there, because I know that’s where you ended up. I want to tell you about my basketball games and hear your voice again. I wish you knew that. It didn’t seem like it was your time. You had blessed so many people but we still needed you in our life. Sometimes when I walk in the kitchen and see your picture, I feel as if a baseball is stuck in my throat. Holding back the tears, I hear your beautiful singing voice, singing the songs in church. I hear your laugh, your voice, your breath, as if you were standing right next to me. As if you were still here. 

I miss your annoying jokes that I never understood. As the days add up, I cherish your silly jokes more and more. It’s super hard for me to think about you and not feel the pain that I feel. Knowing you are in a better place and you did great things while you were here on earth, helps me find a little happiness in your death. You lived a life that people remember you by and admire, and that’s what counts.

I wish you were still here. I wish I could ask you to stay. Knowing I can’t, I appreciate the time I knew you.

Every ounce of my love,
Angelina, age 14