My Poppy.

Let me introduce you to somebody who is really important to me.
This is my Poppy.His name is Gerry.
 
My Poppy is my main man.
He is at the top of my list; even higher than Gerard Butler or Ryan Reynolds.
Even higher than Ryan Reynolds as Green Lantern (those of you who know me know that's a big deal), because my Poppy is my real superhero.
He always has been.

I was raised by a single mother, so my grandparents have always been a huge presence in my life.
My Nan and my Pop have always been there to help out and I love them both very much.
Nan was definitely always the one that 'got' me better than anyone emotionally, but my relationship with my poppy has always been a very special one.
I have always been his 'Possum' and he has always been my Superman.

As a kid, I spent a lot of time with Pop.
When he wasn't working, he was always out in the garden while Kane and I would be kicking the footy around or playing some form of backyard game.
This is where he taught me a lot of my lessons (usually after some form of girly tanty about Kane hitting me too hard with the footy or about not wanting to admit I was bowled out in cricket) about honesty, integrity, strength and just generally not being a sook.
When Pop had friends over for a beer, I'd sit with them at the table and listen to them chat, if I was lucky, I'd get to have the last sip of Pop's beer.
I remember he used to carry a keyring around with Pixi photos of Kane and I back to back and the words 'I Love Poppy'.

As a teenager I remember a girl coming up to me at school and telling me she'd recently met my Pop at the hospital.
I asked her how she knew it was him and she told me that once he'd seen that her school uniform was the same as mine, he had asked her if she knew me and continued to list all of the achievements of mine that he was proud of.
He'd never tell me straight out to my face, being of the tough love generation and all, but I would hear him boasting to people about my school grades or that I was the lead in a play or that I'd won an award.
Of course we had our arguments, I was a bratty tenage girl and I was (of course) always right.
He was stubborn and hard headed and questioned the opinions I formed, but he has always been proud, even of the smallest accomplishment.

As an adult, it's continued that way.
His pride has extended to my moving out of home, to my getting a decent job, to my going overseas for the first time. I remember mum telling me last year that she had heard him boasting to someone in the local shopping centre that I had entered into fashions on the field at the local race day, no big feat, but one that he felt needed sharing nonetheless.
But more than that, his pride extends to my friends and their accomplishments too. Whenever they visit to see my grandparents with me, he asks them about their lives and what's new with them and I can see that he is proud of their acheivements too.
And after everytime he sees them, he reminds me how good a friends I have and tells me not to lose them.
He is 'Pop' to them as well.

And to be honest, as an adult, I've grown to realise that I am proud of him.
I have watched his overwhelming strength and dedication in the face of my grandmother's deteriorating state.
When I was young, I always thought he would be lost without her, but he has proven himself beyond even what I used to think he was capable of.
He cares for her, he cooks, he cleans, he makes sure she is comfortable, he loses sleep with concern, and until very recently, he did it all while refusing any sort of releif or help; a little bit out of pride, but mostly out of love.

 I adore that man with all of me, but more than that, I admire him.

Recently, I've been thinking about my Poppy a lot.
If I don't call or visit him every couple of weeks, I am bound to be told off for it, and last Friday he told me that he had been to have tests on his heart and that it's pretty much only working 50% and that the doctors said he still has 5 to 10 years in him.
For a man in his mid 70's, this still equates to a decent innings, but it is the idea that he has an expiry date that stings. The idea that my poppy can't leap tall buildings in a single bound, that he isn't invincible; the idea that he is fallible just like the rest of us mere mortals, absolutely flattens me.

In a way, I feel like life has gone back on an unspoken deal we had.
I was supposed to end up a decent person and in return, he was supposed to be around forever to make sure I stayed on track and tell me I was doing a good job.
I feel like I kept my end of the bargain.

I don't know how I'm going to cope when that 5 or 10 years is up, but I DO know that in the meantime, I plan to make him the proudest Poppy alive, because I am so proud to have him as my grandfather, humanity and all.

xxx
SJ

Comments

[Bronny]

Oh Skye, this was so heart warming to read... how blessed you have been.... I had a very close relationship with my nanna and Grandpa too. I would help nan with washing and would cook biscuits and cakes which my Pa loved... When nanna made bread, she always had a 'special' little loaf for me....LOL..
You certainly brought back some wonderful memories for me... My nanna and grandpa have passed away for quite a few years now (within 3 months of each other).... they may not be here, but I do have fond memories of them... XXXXXXXXXXX

[jasmine]

you make me cry ... :)

[Tana]

awww chicky. you have an amazing talent with writing (amongst other things!!). this was/is truely beautiful chick. made me get a few little tears - and reminded me so much of my dad. especially that last bit. losing my dad was one of the shittiest things so what you say about the superhero thing totally reminded me of that. big hugs chick xoxox