My Grandfather

So today, twelve years ago, I lost my Granddaddy.  I was sitting in my 6th grade math class when the loud speaker came on, and asked me to go to the principle's office.  Of course, all the other kids around were like "Ooooh, you are in trouble;" and of course I did have to wonder.
My dad was the one picking me up, and he did not say anything to me (which was odd).  Once we got out to the van, he put me in it and broke down crying.  At that point he told me, of course I really wished he was lying, but I could tell he was not.  We went to our house, where my mom was packing (which I realized she was grabbing clothes and putting them in a hamper, not caring what she grabbed).  We waited for my Aunt to show up, and my dad drove us all the three hour drive to Roanoke (we lived in Winchester at the time).
I really do not really remember pretty much anything else.  Except I was the acolyte for the service, and ended up crying in the arms of an old family friend, Sid.

I miss him everyday, because I realize I did not get as much time as everyone else in my family.  I mean, I am the baby; by a few years.  I know he is always with me, and everyday I try to be a better person because of him.  I know he is watching over me, keeping me safe.  I love and miss him everyday.