Kendall shivered a bit in the cold wind. She turned to James, a smile on her face. "Okay, where are we?"

He laughed and removed her blindfold. Logan turned her around. In front of her stood a large sign reading "Welcome to Destin, Minnesota." In small print on the bottom of the sign it read "Home of the 2009 State Hockey Champions."

Carlos nudges her and points to the small letters. "That was us."

Kendall turned to Carlos, obviously slightly confused. "Are we visiting Abuela?"

He shook his head. "Not Abuela, no. We're going to go visit your daddy." A tear formed on his cheek. "We've waited to bring you, but you're growing up. You should be able to see him."

James and Logan took the somber twelve year old by the hands, leading her towards a large metal gate just inside the town limits. As they walked down the pretty path, she took in the beauty of the snowy little cemetery. It was a fitting place for her daddy to have been buried. Right outside was a small pond, full of kids skating around, playing a pickup hockey game.

As they halted, Kendall looked up at Logan, who smiled at her for encouragement as she looked forward. In front of her was a shiny black tombstone with a picture of her father etched into it.

Kendall Knight

October 21, 1990 – April 16, 2011

Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend

Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for that of a friend. John 15:13

James began to cry at the sight of the verse. Kendall, knowing his angst, held him tight. Logan and Carlos wrapped their arms around their friend and niece, and the four of them stood there for a long time.

Eventually they sat down on the benches surrounding the grave, Logan holding Kendall on his lap.

"Your daddy would have been so proud of you. You're just like he was. You're a good leader, and brave, and a wonderful friend."

Carlos smiled. "He would've loved to watch you win the state hockey championship last year."

Kendall grinned, though with teary eyes. "I love you guys."

James nodded, handing her skates to her. "Why don't you go show your daddy how good you are at hockey?"

She grinned all the more widely, hugging her father's best friends before running off to the icy pond. With pride, the men, who had played on the same pond once, as boys, watched their niece shyly ask to join the game of hockey.

With all the love and acceptance so present in the heart of children, the kids accepted her into the game without a second thought. Their hearts swelled with pride as they watched the small girl do what she did best – lead her team to victory.

James startled his friends as he began to speak.

"Hey Kendall. Can you see her? I know you'd be so proud. She's a great hockey player, and a great leader. Just like you, actually.

She's in a training program for hockey. She's going to be on the Olympic women's hockey team next Olympics. It's weird to say that. The women's hockey team. It seems like a few years ago she was our baby, and now she's a few years away from being a woman in the eyes of our country.

She'll be in the Jr. Olympics this year, though. She's really excited. Kendall is growing up so fast. You would be so proud of her. I'm sure you are proud of her."

Logan interrupted James, a tear running down his cheek and falling to the ground, freezing where it landed.

"I miss you Kendall. You were… are, my best friend. I can't imagine what I'd do if I couldn't raise my kids. But I know that if fate had been different and if it had been me you would have taken care of my kids however you could. You're my inspiration for parenting even in death." He lapsed into silence, unsure, for once, of what to say, and wishing he could see his friend, just one more time.

Carlos wrapped an arm around Logan. "I miss you Kendall. I love you."

James put his arm around both of his crying friends. "We all love you."

And with that, the three men walked out of the cemetery to retrieve their niece. Each, as he left, cast a glance at the memorial to the friend they had lost, the friend who had remained twenty one as they had grown older and wiser, and tried so desperately to fill the overly large hole that he had left in so many lives.

Though they would never admit it, they were succeeding. Or at least that's what you would hear, if you asked the not so little girl who still played hockey on the small pond, filling her father's footsteps in a completely different way from the men who tried so hard to show her the type of man he was.

That may have been the worst thing I've ever written. I'm not sure… Maybe it was good. Honestly, I don't know. Please review, because I feel like this was really different than my normal writing. Should I stop writing the narratives and just go back to the letters?

I guess I won't know unless you review. So please, pretty please, review.