By Dixie 
Tomorrow is my Poppy’s birthday. It is his second one in Heaven. I am a Daddy’s girl, even at the ripe age of 55. I still miss him as much if not more than before he passed away.
I walk by his picture on my foyer wall at least a hundred times a day. It is one of my favorite pictures of him: he was sitting in his usual spot in the kitchen, with a soft smile on his face. I look at his face and wish I could drive up to my parent’s house again and see him sitting in his chair just like in the picture. But I can’t.
My Mama sits in his spot now. I see her sitting there when I pull into the driveway, just like I saw Pop. I guard her health in a way that I know is unhealthy. I nag her the same way you would do a child to do this, take that, exercise this way. I remind myself that she is a grown woman who gave birth to me and raised me but I still bring her chocolate milkshakes, chicken sandwiches and wine. I fuss over every discomfort or twinge of an illness and buy whatever eczema lotion or vitamin supplement touted as the next new miracle cure on Facebook. Most of it she throws away.
I signed her up for a medical alert system in case she falls or gets lost and I am not with her. I am not sure if she was insulted by it when I handed her the necklace and wrist band and called it her electronic leash. I hope not but I still need her to use it. She was always very independent and strong and still is compared to most people her age. Her doctors say she is in great health with very little wrong with her physically. I watch her and worry. I need her alive.
I don’t think loss and grief ever end. It just changes you, makes you a little sadder about life, a little more compassionate towards other people’s pain, and a little more focused on what is really important. It makes you fiercely guard those who are still here.
Back many years ago when I was in my 20’s, I remember going to someone’s house and seeing several pictures like the one I have on my wall. I didn’t know the people very well and I wondered why they had so many pictures that reminded them of someone who wasn’t here anymore. Why would they put themselves through that much pain every single day?
The answer is that love remains. To forget seems disrespectful like their life didn’t matter somehow. Like you didn’t really love them that much. So, you continue to remember even though the pain continues. You do whatever you can not to forget them even though you don’t see them anymore. You have to.
It’s OK to grieve. It’s OK to never get over someone. Use that pain to be a little kinder. Live your life in a way that honors that person’s memory. Enjoy your time here on this planet and always, always hold onto the hope and certainty that your loved one is on the other side waiting for your time to come over.
Poppy Bear, I will see your smile again. I love you…