Nine Years

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Nine years. Three thousand two hundred eighty-five days. That's how long you've been gone. My cells have replaced themselves one time since you've been alive. Just to think this skin I'm in isn't the skin I wore when I used to be greeted with your safe embraces. This skin won't ever remember your song you sang to me for bedtime every night. Shoot, my own brain can't even remember the whole song. I remember your voice, something that will stick with me forever. On this day, nine years ago, I lost more than just my granddaddy. I lost my father figure, my best friend, my rock. My friends won't ever meet the amazing person you were. You won't be there to see me graduate high school, or even get married. You're missing all my firsts that I'll make. You were there for my first steps and words. You were there for my first day of kindergarten. I just miss you so much. I wish you were here. I wish you never left. You would have protected me. I wouldn't be the person I am today if it weren't for you and I just wish you were here to see me evolve into this adult.

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