After a wonderful evening and coming home to post pictures and videos, I of course, jumped onto my Facebook to get caught up on all my dear friends' lives and pictures. Tonight, I got a little note from a family member and it was very sweet, but it also ripped open a . . . . wound, for lack of a better word.

My dear Grandpa Don passed away earlier this year. Summer was pretty tough. Every Summer, my grandpa came up to Oregon. Most years he came up with my sweet Grandma Barb. Every year they either stayed at my home or in town. Then after a few days, they would go stay on the beach a bit south of here, for a week. During these weeks, I really got to know my grandparents. They would share stories of their lives, give me advice and always leave me stuffed full of happy memories. We often would travel around the coast together visiting fun little places. This summer was the first year, since I have moved up here, that my Grandpa wasn't here with me. Every time I saw a biker riding through town, I would recall stories Grandpa told about his adventures riding down the coast. How bittersweet. On my way to a job up north, I pass by a bridge. I remember biking, on this bridge with my grandpa and parents about 9 summers back. I can't pass this bridge without remembering the moment on this little biking adventure that Grandpa passed me and threw out a little encourgement and laugh as he passed me.

I really miss him. How odd it was to not have him or Grandma up here this summer. I looked forward to summer every year because I cherished those times I got with them. But now, those days are gone. All that I have left are my memories.

Summer has passed, the bikers coming through are slim to none and so are those constant reminders. I still think of him often and see his perfectly parted hair in my mind, but I not being reminded everyday.

So tonight when I read my note, I was taken off guard and wasn't prepared to deal with all those sweet memories. The pain of losing him feels so fresh.

I miss you Grandpa, so so much.