This one has a different feel to it, just as a heads up. It's not lighthearted and happy.

It's not often that I allow myself to remember. 

In fact, there are times when my brain wants me to think about it, and I have to push it aside. I don't often have the time to pull myself together.

Whenever I do though, it takes a while. My thoughts and memories shuffle through my mind almost like I'm not sure which one to watch. Years and years of experience for obvious reasons, take a lot of time.

I love those memories, but they are painful to remember. I rarely remember without crying, without missing.

Even though it's been over four years since he died, he still remains--and will always remain--my biggest role model.

I stare at his picture on my desk, remembering how much he loved people. He loved serving them, giving to those who had nothing. The time my siblings and I spent with him was often filled with at least one service activity. To this day, I still can't go to a homeless shelter, or a food pantry, without thinking about him.

Above all, my dad loved us. He would spend so much money, time, and effort on giving us the best he could. My siblings and I all have wonderful memories because of all he sacrificed.

Of course, whenever I think of the past, I can't help but think of the future. As a college student, there is so much still ahead of me that he won't be there for.  He won't be at my wedding. He won't meet my future children.

He died two months before I graduated high school, meaning he also missed my graduation.

As painful as all those thoughts of the future are, I relish in it. Because that means he meant something to me, that he still means something to me. And I would never trade in my relationship with him for a pain-free life.

I often glance around me at school, work, or the grocery store. I see people my age, and to me, however accurate it is, they don't know the loss I know. Of course, everyone has their own struggles, but it's hard to see when I know what mine is and I don't know theirs.

As I pick up the picture of him and me taken over fifteen years ago, I run my finger over his beard, still remembering how it felt to have it scratch against my cheek when he hugged me. He gave the best hugs.

My mind wanders back to an outing we had the summer before he died, as my eyes find the 3 ounce container on my desk.

There were only three of us, my dad, my younger brother, and me. We went tubing down a river in Oregon. My dad told us that it would only take an hour or two until we reached our designated stopping point. This was an activity that we had done plenty of times in a variety of locations, so when it turned into a six hour river ride, we weren't too bothered.

The most exciting part of the adventure was when we came upon a fallen tree. It was in the river, submerged, but just barely. Most of the water was going underneath the trunk, which of course created a little bit of a suction.

I got pulled under, and I couldn't get out on my own. I don't remember how long I was under for, it wasn't too long, but it felt like an eternity.

My dad pulled me out. My brother was stuck on the tree in his tube.

A laugh threatens to escape me as I remember how my dad lost his basketball shorts during the whole ordeal. He wasn't one to wear swimsuits, and he was wearing boxers underneath. He also lost one of his flip-flops.

Before the whole calamity, we stumbled across an empty plastic coca-cola bottle floating in the water. Naturally, we picked it up. And for whatever reason, we would fill it and empty it with river water. When we hit the tree, it was full.

My brother and I kept the bottle full after that, and we called it "Great Scare Water." The event was termed "The Time of the Great Scare." 

It seemed a little silly at the time to buy some 3 ounce bottles to transport the Great Scare Water in on our flight back, but I am forever grateful that my dad let us be silly.

A tear trickles out of my eye.

Tears are a small price to pay for 17 years of memories.

This one is short, even for a short story, but I hope you still felt the emotion :')