It felt like yesterday, but I met him one day after school. It was the beginning of fourth grade and he was there with my sister Jessica, in her room. He was tall, tan, and solidly built. He had a chill attitude that was welcoming to all and this natural warmth. His name was James LaPacz.

     Let's be honest, it wasn't the most memorable first meeting but that was nothing compared to our first awkward moment. A month later on Halloween night, I remember getting scared over something and ran into my sister's room. But she wasn't there, he was. Now he could've easily kicked me out, screamed, thrown a fit, anything. Instead he let me get comfortable while he texted my sister who had slept in a different room: "There's a 9 year-old boy in my bed, what do I do?" Eventually, she came and the next day, we all had a good laugh. And it was in that moment, we all knew he fit right in with our family.

     When James and my sister got married, we learned more about him and his life. He grew up in Green Bay in a religious family, a home filled with life, loving parents, and amazing siblings. In 2001, he enlisted in the military and served in Iraq and then he came home in 2008. During that time, he was connected to my sister and it changed our lives. His, ours, everyone's. But boy was it great. The year following his homecoming, he and my sister got married and had their son, Braden, who is my nephew.

     A struggle he had prior to Braden's birth was this idea of becoming a father. His life was taking off faster than expected and as glorious as it was, this was terrifying too. One minute he's in war, the next he's living a great life with the family he's built. He once was so worried, he consulted my mother. He was scared and wondered if he could really make this work. She simply listened and told him that it would all come naturally and it did. He helped raise Braden, he loved him, and tried his best to be the father Braden deserved.

     I remember our last real conversation. This happened when he picked me up from school in March of last year, long before I got into Whitewater, passed my APUSH exam, and life changed dramatically. I was still unsure about my life. I had just done my testing and was concerned on whether I even had a future. Obviously I did, but there was no guarantee. Things weren't looking the greatest, so I felt down in the dumps. However, when I talked with him, he was realistically uplifting.

"I don't know what will happen," I told him while holding my head. "What if I did bad on the ACT? What if I don't get into college? What do I do?"

While I was on the down-spiral, he sighed and told me in these words: "Sometimes in life, there's gonna be problems. Especially after high school. But you have to keep going."

      It's those words I still live by today and what got me through the tough times. The most crucial period being the very fact, that he died.

     The day we heard the news, none of us saw it coming. I got in the car with my father and brother, thinking we were just doing a guys' night like the weekend before. I was wrong. Instead, I found out that James had died. I truly think I was in shock as everyone else had cried, I couldn't. It instilled again this idea that I've had, where I'm different from my family. It didn't matter how many times they said everyone grieves differently, I wanted to feel like them. It took me awhile, but I did get there. Though between that first day and the funeral, I remained strong for our family and for Braden.

     The Thursday after his passing, we went up for his funeral. I started the day playing this one computer game that kept my spirits up. I'm glad I did. After putting on the truck tie that Dad, my brother Andrew, and I wore to match Braden, it began. The ride there was nice. Lunch at Subway was okay. But going inside, coming face-to-face with his lifeless body and seeing pictures of his life, tore me apart. All the memories came flooding back. While my family knew him just nine years, I had known him over half my life. I grew up around him. I knew my loss was nothing compared to Braden's or James' family, but it really did feel like I lost a brother and not an in-law.

     I really struggled to hold it together. In fact, everyone did. He was only thirty-three and was supposed to be at the peak of his life. Not lying in a casket. I ended up visiting him three times. Twice with family and once alone. There were so many people, I couldn't get real privacy but I did tell him he would be missed, he was loved, and he was forgiven. We were then called into the church where I sat between my grandfather and my mother. The moment Amazing Grace swirled through my ears and broke my heart, I was done. For someone who didn't cry much, I couldn't stop crying during the service. I did pick myself back up again briefly, only to fall apart during his military salute. As they played the tune in their dressed uniforms with the flag and all, Mom held me in her arms, Dad held Andrew him in his, while we saw Braden across the room. He didn't understand any of this and to be honest, neither did we.

     Things were fine after we ate from the reception buffet. My body and my system was so numb, yet I was still able to function. I did however, cry one last time after arriving home. I was so broken inside, exhausted, but most of all confused. Mom told me the hardest part was over and it was. The next day, I woke up on my day of recovery. I took things slow as it was all I could do. In fact, everyone took things at their own pace.

     During my time of grief, I realized it was this very dilemma where I had these feelings, showed me how important he really was. How much of an impact he had on my life. I'll never forget the night I stayed over with him and Jess at their apartment and his crazy, loud laughter kept me up. It drove me bonkers, but it's what I'll remember about him as it happens with my nephew and I from time to time. I guess that's the thing about death. No matter the circumstances, you always remember the good times. For a fallen soldier like him, there were plenty. For that, we will always remember him as the spirit of James LaPacz will always live on through our hearts.