July 13th was always our day -- my Grandpa's and mine.
Born on the same day, 61 years apart.
It was my favorite part about my birthday: the fact that I got to share it with someone I loved so much.

July 9th, 2006 took that away from me.

Losing my Grandpa in general was hard enough -- losing him so close to our day was gut-wrenching.

Birthdays are supposed to be full of joy and fun and celebration.
I used to have a countdown going year-round.
I used to put up signs around the house, blatantly, but good-naturedly reminding my family that my birthday was coming up soon.

But suddenly I had to celebrate in a way that I didn't know how: alone.

Not alone, like no one was there. Alone, like I didn't know how to not share it with my Grandpa anymore. Only now, 4 years later, do I finally feel like I've learned how. This birthday was the first one that I didn't spend the whole day missing him.

I thought about him that morning when I woke up, as I do every birthday... But this time I didn't cry.
I thought about him when I read my card from my Grandma, seeing only her signature at the bottom... But this time I didn't have to bite my lip in order to keep myself from publicly losing it.
I thought about him as I went to sleep, as the last moments of my 21st birthday passed by... But this time I didn't feel guilty for laughing or smiling, because I know that having a good time is exactly what he would want me to do. Those of you who knew him, know just how true that is :)

I want to thank all of my family and friends who helped me celebrate this year.

Whether you were with me at midnight, ringing in my day with a bottle of champagne and a rousing rendition of "Paper Planes", with me during the day, celebrating over a cup of coffee and good conversation, or sending me your love and well wishes over the lovely world of Facebook -- I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.

It's because of you that I'm able to move on and have fun and celebrate this life.

And Grandpa... I love you. Always.