Poppy died last night. There I said it. I was going to say went home, passed away, went to be with the Lord, and he did all of those things, but he died. I really hate that word - but is is part of life. Poppy kept telling us all week not to worry, that everybody dies, but the process pretty much stinks and for me it personally brought back a lot of memories that perhaps I have not dealt with in awhile. I went in and gave Poppy a kiss around 1:30 a.m. I told him I loved him, he struggled and told me he loved me back and I knew he meant it. I laid in bed and cried and then dozed off holding Trey. My mother was laying in bed rubbing Poppy's back and my brother Jim was in the chair checking on him every few minutes. Around 2:45 a.m. Jim got up to get a drink of water and sat down out in the living room. He said Poppy was looking at him and then he was looking at my mother. My mother had dozed off as well and around 3:00 a.m. she woke up and called Jim back into the room - he was gone. Jim came in and got me and told me he was gone - it seems just that simple, but it is never simple. We all sat in there for quite awhile saying goodbye, digesting the reality that was now ours. He looked peaceful but he was gone and he felt gone and dear God please take care of him, because he is my daddy and I miss him already. We called Hospice and let them know and then called the funeral home. It was still dark when the funeral home arrived and they put him on the gurney and we came back in and kissed him goodbye. I remember handing over my son Michael just a year in a half ago over to the funeral home and it was all too familiar. After I handed Michael over (it was also in the middle of the night), I remember looking out at the moon - it was a full moon and it was blue. Last night it was a half moon and it was very clear, I could see every star. Somehow when the funeral home people leave with your baby or your Poppy - it is just so final. I know we will see him again, I get that he is in a better place, but I'm not, I am right here and for today that is just so very hard.
I do have to mention that when the funeral home came - they sent out 2 very well dressed men and they were incredibly gentle and polite. I of course after we all prayed and cried looked at Poppy and said, "Poppy - this is just a shit sandwich." I stole his saying, but it is and yet I do feel blessed or fortunate that I had time with him to tell him how much I love him, to let him enjoy his new grandson and to let him tell us how much he loved us. I tried to soak in every word and every pearl of proverbial wisdom he had to offer.
I went into Poppy's room tonight and laid down on his bed, looked in his closet and I just turned off his radio that he was listening to with headphones yesterday about 15 minutes ago. So tonight I close with a saying from an Irish headstone that is so appropriate
- Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
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