On the 16th anniversary of your passing, it’s hard to imagine the amount of time that has gone by… and what life might’ve been if you were still around today.

It’s been 16 years to the day since you suddenly passed away. So much of our family has departed this Earth since then, too. It’s hard to comprehend the amount of loss that has filled our lives in such a short amount of time.

I have grieved you so much longer than I knew you in life, and it’s strange to say how much of an impact that grief has had on me…

For a long time, it was monumental.

I carried it in my heart and on my mind like a reminder of what it was like to be around a person who was “larger than life” in personality.

It’s been a rare journey to find that kindred spirit, but I have surrounded myself with some incredibly wonderful people who speak their mind, love deeply, and are courageous in the face of turmoil or animosity most days.

You were an enigmatic human being.

A troubled and complex soul with a checkered past, but a heart of gold when people least expected it. You helped folks when they were down on their luck or set the record straight for those on the opposition.

You loved your family to a fault, but also gave very little lead way for imperfection or forgiveness. You were the harshest critic at times, but the strongest defender. You pushed me to become the best version of myself, and for a while, maybe I was.

Grief weighs so heavy on the heart, though.

Foolishly, I believe everything would be different today if you were still here. I’m not sure if it would for the better or worse, but I believe it would have been different. You were such an unyielding figure that it seemed like there wasn’t a problem you couldn’t solve or fix.

I may have chased a career in politics in Youngstown and maybe I would’ve never met my husband, Jay, in Pittsburgh.

I might’ve learned how to drive sooner, but let’s be honest, you definitely helped traumatize me about driving by letting go of the steering wheel in the dump truck and making me drive on South Ave!

I miss the beautiful holidays that Tami would orchestrate for us all. My goodness, she had such a wondrous way of making every occasion feel so special. I miss her laughter and her resilient way of always telling it like it is…. a gift many in the Harman family have.

My heart still hurts missing her. Some days, I have such a strong urge to hear her voice once more…. if only I could pick up the phone and call her, she’d pick up just the once… one more time.

Maybe if you were still here, my mother may not have become such a emotionally broken person. You left such an awful mess for both her and Tami to tackle in the aftermath of your death. It was a long and arduous way up out of that rut…. one that still seems to be unraveling today.

Neither my sister or I speak to her anymore, but I’d like to believe that maybe she would’ve held onto a little bit of love in her heart if you had stuck around. Still, I hope someday she heals her heart and mind. I will always wish things could’ve been different, and always hope that someday, love will find a way to give her a second chance.

I find myself being torn between so many places I call home, but so many of my closest friendships are there. So much of my heart is full of love from memories with family and friends in the bounds of the city. I’m grateful to call it home, too.

I miss you. I miss Tami. I miss the family we all once were… but I guess, as they say, nothing lasts forever. If I could bottle up such joy, even if only for a moment, I’d go back to 2008 and capture it.

Tonight, we’ll toast to you with our traditional shot of Black Velvet, the most atrocious whiskey to exist on Earth…. and the only spirit I seem to drink on schedule every year. In your honor, of course.

In another lifetime, if you could’ve chosen to be more of a Pina Colada man, that would’ve been wonderful.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. Give my love to Tami.

Maybe someday we will have that motorcycle ride to Harman, West Virginia as Tami once hoped we would… until then, ride free with the winds on your back and the sun always rising on the horizon.

Love you, always.