A letter to my Hero, my late Poppy

When I think of love, I think of you and Nanna. You, so eternally positive and strong, never leaving when the going got tough. Instead, you would walk over an hour to that nursing home, every single day. And God forbid you missed a day, she would have been devastated. Which is just a testament to how much she loved you too. And as your memory began to fade, one thing remained the same – your cherished memory of her. When I think of love, I think of your forever friends, your neighbors – Peggy and Charlie, and how you brought your grave plots beside each other. Laughing at the fact you’ll now be neighbors in life and death. Because love is spending eternity together in any way you believe possible. Love is, collecting all your spare change in a money tin and splitting it between your grandchildren.

When you miss someone. When they are gone. You never saw them enough. Never took enough photos. Never said I love you enough. Never cherished them enough. I hope you felt so deeply loved during your time on earth. Because everybody did love you – so much. You were the joker in the room, the never-taking life too serious type. Dancing in the living room to all the fifty's greatest hits type. The fit, energetic goofball right into your eighties. My hero. My mother’s hero, and her sister’s. The perfect example of a man and the person who showed me through your actions – what love looks like.

Although, your mother died when you were only eight years old and shortly after your father abandoned you, still you held strong your entire life. You showed me what it is like to go through hell and come through the other side still beaming with gratitude and happiness. When Nanna was struggling and your friends didn’t understand your commitment to her, they didn’t understand her. But you understood her, and that all she needed was love – love as firm as your will. All the misunderstood people in the world crave love, this lesson has been ingrained in me. Thank you. Your courage to block out all the naysayers because of your love will be remembered and all the family is endlessly grateful for it.

The safest place I ever knew as a child was by your side, strolling on one of your lengthy walks. Making jokes to all the passers-bys and to the café workers where you sat and ate your daily toasted sandwich. Jokes I had heard a million times, but they never failed to make me smile regardless. You made me believe in the beauty of the mundane, of the routine. Like your scenic, mediative walks you loved so dearly. All that time to recall memories I wish I had implored to hear more of.

I’ll forever be in awe of your ability to care for everyone, no matter the difficulty. Until it was your time to be taken care of. You taught me the meaning of serving others. Serving Nanna until her passing and serving my mother when life served her the short straw. What is more, you never uttered a single complaint. You are a true hero in my heart. Taking care of others selflessly is the most admirable trait in my eyes.

Each one of us can be heroes, my Poppy is proof of this.

Heroes are those who influence our lives in such a way that their passing remains with us, their lessons and life-long compassion stays embedded with us for the duration of our lives.

I love you, Poppy.

In those last few moments, I got to spend with you… you couldn’t speak but I hope you could see it on my face – how much I loved you, how terribly you would be missed. You don’t realise when you’re young how precious your time is with those you love. You think you’ll have forever to make up any lost time. Time, I didn’t know was running out. Time, I didn’t know I would do anything to get back.

I’ll never forget your boney fingers which you used to tickle me with, doing anything and everything to put a smile on my face. I’ll never forget how you used to dance and sing to your favourite records, in that damn jumper I’m sure you’ve had since before I was born. Or how you would sing “put your shoes on Lucy don’t you know we’re in the city” to me whilst I tied my shoelaces for school.

I am so glad you’ll get to be with your sweetheart Edith after all this time. She’ll be ecstatic to see you again. Nanna always did hate it when you were gone for too long. I bet she met you with one of her sloppy kisses we all used to complain about.

I hope they have an endless supply of dark chocolate, roses and butter bread pudding up there for you.

Dedicated to: Keith Briese

1932 - 2022