Growing up, I'd always been a daddy's girl. I spent as much time with him as I possibly could, whether that was going to a store, fishing and hunting trips, hikes, sports practices, cooking, or simply watching TV with him. My dad was the center of my world. I wanted to do everything he did. I became a mini version of him, and still am today. My dad was a very hardworking man who valued family, dedication, and honesty; I follow those values to this day. September 3rd, 2021, my second day of 8th grade, I lost my dad to COVID-19. I thought my life was over, that without him, there was no point anymore. For a while after, I was numb, angry. My whole house fell apart when he died; he kept everything running. He was the cook, the handyman, the main provider, the mechanic, and the one who kept us active. With him gone, my mom working overtime every day, that left me to take care of the house and my younger sister, so that’s what I did. Doing everything with my dad kind of prepared me to do it all, although nothing would ever prepare me for actually having to do it. For a year, my daily routine consisted of making my sister breakfast, school, softball practice, cleaning the house, making dinner, doing homework, repeat. We were renovating the house when my dad passed, so I worked around the house on the weekends, too. My Freshman year of high school, I decided that I needed to get out of the house, do something for myself. So I joined the high school Fastpitch team, the Girls Wrestling team, FFA, and became an assistant softball coach for the middle school. That didn't mean my responsibilities at home lessened; my schedule just got busier. But it didn't stress me as much as it seemed like it would; they became my lifeline. Through FFA, I made some of my best friends, found a love for agriculture, and helped me decide what career I want to go into. In wrestling, I made new connections, got in shape, found something I was good at, but most importantly, found my outlet. I worked out all my pain, anger, and sorrow on the mat. It was a passion, giving me something to be proud of, something my dad would be proud of. The memory of my dad and the need to make him proud have driven me through the struggles I have faced along the way. I have faced countless injuries from wrestling, including breaking my ankle in my senior year, which ended my season and career early. Despite numerous setbacks and mental breakdowns, I persevered, was ranked 4th in the state, and served as team captain for two consecutive years. As I got older, I also got jobs that I have to balance with running my house, school, sports, FFA, National Honor Society, and many volunteer activities that I participate in. My dad was the strongest, bravest, most protective, loving man I have ever known, and looking back, the most paranoid. Almost like he knew something would happen, he took every chance to teach me a lesson, whether that was how to fix a roof, skin a deer, gut a fish, cook a steak, or simply just sit me down and talk about how family is the #1 thing in your life and to put them first, how to perform under pressure, and how to love. I will always carry my dad in my heart and those lessons he taught me in my mind.