And I knew. I knew she was staying until I was ready to let her go.
“Rune?” Poppy’s voice pulled me around. Leaning back against the tree, I lifted Poppy to lie over my legs so I could see her. So I could commit to memory every single second of this day.
“Ja?” I answered and ran my fingers down her face. Her forehead was lined with worry. I sat a little straighter.
Poppy took a deep breath, and said, “What if I forget?”
My heart cracked right down the center as I watched fear cross her face. Poppy didn’t feel fear. But she did about this.
“Forget what, baby?”
“Everything,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “You, my family … all the kisses. The kisses I want to relive until I get you back again one day.”
Forcing myself to stay strong, I assured her, “You won’t.”
Poppy glanced away. “I once read that souls forget their life on Earth when they pass. That they have to forget or else they would never be able to move on, to be at peace in heaven.” Her finger began tracing patterns on my fingers. “But I don’t want that,” she added, almost inaudibly. “I want to remember everything.”
Looking up at me, she said with tears in her eyes, “I never want to forget you. I need you with me, always. I want to watch you live your life. The exciting life I know you’ll have. I want to see the pictures you’ll take.” She swallowed. “But most of all, I want my thousand kisses. I never want to forget what we shared. I want to remember them always.”
“Then I’ll find a way for you to see them,” I said, and with the breeze that wrapped around us, Poppy’s sadness floated away.
“You will?” she whispered, hope clear in her gentle voice.
I nodded. “I promise. I don’t know how, but I will. Nothing, not even God, will stop me.”
“As I wait in our grove,” she said, with a dreamy, distant smile.
“Ja.”
Settling back down in my arms, Poppy whispered, “That’ll be nice.” Tipping her head, she said, “But wait a year.”
“A year?”
Poppy nodded her head. “I read it takes a soul a year to pass on. I don’t know if that’s true, but in case it is, wait a year to remind me of our kisses. I don’t want to miss it … whatever you do.”
“Okay,” I agreed, but I had to stop talking. I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t fall apart.
Birds flew from tree to tree, becoming lost from view in the blossom. Clasping our hands together, Poppy said, “You gave me this, Rune. You gave me this wish.”
I couldn’t respond. My breathing hitched as she spoke. I wrapped her tighter in my arms, then with my finger under her chin, brought her to my mouth. The sweetness was still there on her soft lips. When I drew back, she kept her eyes closed, and said, “Kiss nine hundred and thirty-four. In the blossom grove with the blossoms full. With my Rune … my heart almost burst.”
I smiled. As I did, I felt an ache of happiness for my girl. We were almost there. The end of her adventure was in sight.
“Rune?” Poppy called.
“Mm?” I replied.
“You’ve stopped smoking.”
Exhaling, I answered, “Ja.”
“Why?”
Pausing to compose my answer, I admitted, “Someone I love taught me life is precious. She taught me not to do anything to jeopardize the adventure. And I listened.”
“Rune,” Poppy said, a catch in her throat. “It is precious,” she whispered, “so very precious. Don’t waste one single second of it.”
Poppy lazed against me, watching the beauty of the grove. As she inhaled a deep breath, she quietly confided, “I don’t think I’ll see prom, Rune.” My body stilled. “I’m feeling real tired.” She tried to hold onto me tightly, and she repeated, “Real tired.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled her close. “Miracles can happen, baby,” I replied.
“Yes,” Poppy said breathlessly, “they can.” She brought my hand up to her mouth and kissed each of my fingers. “I would have loved to have seen you in a tux. And I would have loved to dance with you, under the lights, to a song that made me think of you and me.”
Feeling Poppy begin to tire in my arms, I held back the pain this image conjured up and said, “Let’s get you home, baby.”
As I went to stand, Poppy reached for my hand. I glanced down. “You’ll stay by my side, won’t you?”
Crouching down, I cupped her cheeks. “Forever.”
“Good,” she whispered. “I’m not quite ready to let you go, not just yet.”
As I pushed her home, I sent a silent prayer to God, asking Him to give her just two more weeks. He could bring my girl home after that; she was ready, I’d be ready. Just after I gave her all her dreams.
Just let me give her this final wish.
I had to.
It was my final thank-you for all the love she’d given me.
It was the only gift I could give.
Poppy
Two weeks later
I sat in my chair, in my mama’s bathroom, as my mama coated my lashes with mascara. I watched her like I’d never watched her before. She smiled. I watched, making sure I had etched every part of her face in my memory.
The truth was, I was fading. I knew it. I think deep down we all knew it. Every morning that I woke, Rune curled by my side, I felt just a little more tired, just a little weaker.
But in my heart, I felt strong. I could hear the call from home getting stronger. I could feel the peace of its calling flow through me, minute by minute.
And I was almost ready.
As I watched my family over the past few days, I knew they would be fine. My sisters were happy and strong, and my parents loved them fiercely, so I knew they would be okay.
And Rune. My Rune, the person I found it hardest to leave … he had grown. He had not yet realized that he was no longer the moody, broken boy who had returned from Norway.
He was vibrant.
He smiled.
He was taking pictures again.
But better still, he loved me openly. The boy who’d returned hid behind a wall of darkness. Not anymore; his heart was open. And because of that, he had let in light to his soul.
He would be okay.
Mama went to the closet. When she returned to the bathroom, she was holding out a beautiful white dress. Reaching out, I ran my hand down the material. “It’s beautiful,” I said and smiled up at her.
“Let’s get it on you, shall we?”
I blinked, confused. “Why, Mama? What’s happening?”
Mama batted her hand in dismissal. “Enough with the questions, baby girl.” She helped me dress, slipping white shoes onto my feet.
The sound of the bedroom door opening made me look around. When I did, my aunt DeeDee stood in the doorway, her hand upon her chest.
“Poppy,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “You look beautiful.”
DeeDee glanced over to my mama and held out her hand. My mama held her sister, and they stood there, looking at me. Smiling at the look on their faces, I asked, “Can I see?”
My mama pushed my chair in front of the mirror, and I stilled at the sight of my reflection. The dress looked so pretty, prettier than I could have imagined. And my hair … my hair was pulled to the side in a low bun, my favorite white bow pinned in place above it.
As always, my infinity earrings stood out, loud and proud.