It’s been 11 years since I last saw you. 11 years without hearing your laugh over something funny in the morning newspaper. 11 years without the sound of you going to work early in the mornings. 11 years too long.
Death was something that I had never really experienced before we lost you. My grandma had died when I was very young, but I didn’t remember much of the funeral and I wasn’t that close to her. With you, it hit me hard. You and Gram had lived with us since I was a little kid. I was only in the 6th grade but I considered myself to be more mature this time around.
It was cancer. It took over your body. You fought hard and you put up a good fight but it wasn’t enough. You were tired. The last time I went to see you in the hospital, Gram walked us into the room and the grandkids got to sit at your bedside. I remember being scared. Not scared of how you looked but that this might be the last time. I didn’t know how to prepare myself.
I held your hand and you smiled. You smiled until the bitter end. The next day, my Gram called to tell us that you had taken your last breath and made the journey to heaven. I cried. We all did. I had no choice but to say my final goodbye on November 2nd, 2009.
It’s been 11 years since I last saw you, Poppy. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you or wish that you were here so that you could see all of your family and grandkids. So much has happened. Until we meet again, I love you. We love you.