Dear Poppy

Mon, June 06, 2016


Dear Poppy,

I get so angry sometimes that you were taken away from us so quickly, but I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have belonged to you for 27 years. From the day I was born we were inseperable, I was always by your side "helping" you, and you wouldn't have had it any other way. Looking back on all our photos we were always together and it was like that, always. You were more than my pop, you were my dad, my protector and my best friend.

You did everything in the world for Michael and I, all you wanted to do was make us happy. When we were little you built Michael and I the best Billy Cart we'd ever seen, and you'd push us around in it for hours on end....until you fell and split your knee open, then the billy cart was out of action until further notice.

Every birthday, every party, every graduation, every school event, every piano recital, every netball and footy game, every single day you were always there, no matter what and we couldn't have done any of it without you.

You loved my little lancer too, so much that you used to wash it for me every single Sunday, polished, wheels scrubbed with a toothbrush and all. You were a panel beater by trade and you always made sure all of us looked after our cars. The little yellow lancer still looks like it did the day you picked it up on my 17th birthday, I think I've done you proud.

Remember my 18th birthday party? It got a little out of control and we had just a few more people than expected! We didn't need to wonder where you were, you were in the middle of a circle of about 100 people chanting "Keith, Keith, Keith!" whilst you skulled a beer and danced the night away. I couldn't have been prouder to be your grandaughter! You were always the life of the party, and you did it so well. Everyone always had fun when you were around.

Or how about the time an old boyfriend broke up with me and I came home in tears, I'd never seen you move so quickly, you went straight to your workshed, picked up your axe and started making your way down the street quick smart, I think it hurt you to see me cry more than any boy could hurt me.

At my Pilates classes everyone knew you as "Mat Boy", you would be at every single class helping me take the mats in and then come back to help us pack up. Yep. Every single class I ever had, you were there before and after, you never missed one. You were so proud of me and everyone loved you.

From the day I could talk until your very last days, every single time I pulled out of the driveway you would come out the front and we would mouth to each other "I love you very, very, very, very, very, very much" and blow each other a kiss (it was always exactly that many 'verys"). Sometimes out of habit I still go to do it, and I don't stop myself I know you're doing it right back on the other end.

Whenever you had a few too many beers, you used to say over and over again, "This is all I need right here, I'm the luckiest bloke in the world". We all used to laugh, but I reckon you had it spot on.

A lot has changed since you've gone Pop and I would give anything for you to see, although something gives me the feeling you've played a part. You would have done anything to see me be happy, and every time I think of what's happened I still whisper a little "thank you, pop". I just know.

I miss you so much and things will never be the same. I think about you every day and I just wish I could see you just one more time to tell you everything, but then I remember your still watching over me. I love you very, very, very, very, very, very much. X