Poppy’s breathing hollowed and I leaned forward, knowing this was it. I pressed my forehead to hers, just one last time. Poppy lifted her soft hand to my hair. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too,Poppymin.”
As I pulled back, Poppy looked into my eyes and said, “I’ll see you in your dreams.”
Trying to hold back my emotions, I rasped back, “I’ll see you in my dreams.”
Poppy sighed, a peaceful smile gracing her face. Then Poppy closed her eyes, tilting her chin up for her final kiss, her hand squeezing mine.
Lowering myself to her mouth, I pressed the softest, most meaningful kiss to her soft lips. Poppy breathed out through her nose, her sweet scent engulfing me … and she never breathed again.
Reluctantly pulling back, I opened my eyes, now witnessing Poppy in eternal sleep. She was as beautiful now as ever she was in life.
But I couldn’t tear myself away, and I pressed another kiss to her cheek. “One thousand and one,” I whispered aloud. I pressed another, and another. “One thousand and two, one thousand and three, one thousand and four.” Feeling a hand on my arm, I looked up. Mr. Litchfield was shaking his head sadly.
So many emotions rushed around within me that I didn’t know what to do. Poppy’s now-stilled hand remained in mine and I didn’t want to let go. But when I looked down, I knew she had returned home.
“Poppymin,” I whispered and looked out the window at the fallen petals racing by. As I glanced back, I saw her jar of kisses on her shelf, a single blank paper heart and pen lying beside it. I got to my feet, scooped them all up and rushed out onto the porch. As soon as the air hit my face, I fell back against the wall, trying to blink away the tears streaming down my face.
Slumping to the floor, I rested the heart on my knee and wrote:
Opening the jar, I placed the now-complete heart inside and sealed it shut. Then…
I didn’t know what to do. I searched all around me for something to help, but there was nothing. I placed the jar beside me and my arms around my legs, and rocked back and forth.
A creak on the step rang out. When I looked up, my pappa was standing there. I met his eyes. This was all he needed to see that Poppy had gone. My pappa’s eyes immediately filled with water.
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore, so I released them, full force. I felt arms wrap around me. I tensed, then looked up to see my pappa holding me in his arms.
But this time I needed it.
I needed him.
Giving up the final traces of anger I still harbored, I fell into my pappa’s arms and set free all of my pent-up emotions. And my pappa let me. He stayed with me on that porch as day gave way to night. He held me without uttering a single word.
It was the fourth and final moment that defined my life—losing my girl. And, knowing it, my pappa simply held me.
I was sure that if I’d listened closely to the howling wind rushing by, I would have heard Poppy’s lips break into a wide smile as she danced her way home.
* * *
Poppy was laid to rest a week later. The service was just as beautiful as she deserved. The church was small, the perfect send-off for a girl that loved her family and friends with all her heart.
After the service, I decided against the wake at Poppy’s parents’ house and came back to my room. Less than two minutes later, a knock sounded on my door and my mamma and pappa walked in.
In my pappa’s hand was a box. I frowned when he laid it on my bed.
“What’s this?” I asked, confused.
My pappa sat down beside me and put his hand on my shoulder. “She asked us to give this to you after her funeral, son. She prepared it quite a while before she passed.”
My heart thundered in my chest. My pappa tapped the sealed box. “There’s a letter in there I was told to tell you to read first. Then a few boxes. They’re numbered in the order you have to open them.”
My pappa got to his feet. As he went to leave, I gripped onto his hand. “Thank you,” I said hoarsely. Pappa leaned forward and kissed my head.
“Love you, son,” he said softly.
“Love you too,” I replied, and meant every word. Things this week had been easier between us. If Poppy’s short life had taught me anything, it was that I had to learn to forgive. I had to love and I had to live. I’d blamed my pappa for so much for so long. In the end my anger caused only pain.