Poppy

I've been trying for days to write this post. And when I opened this up and titled it, I just stopped. I've sat here for what seems like days not knowing how to begin. Most of you who read this blog already know what I'm about to say.

I guess this is one of those posts that begins with the end.

On August 21, 2013 my Poppy passed away. He had just turned 79.

Poppy was my grandfather, my mom's dad. Early that morning he suffered a stroke that ultimately lead to his passing not quite 12 hours later. I'm thankful he didn't suffer long, if at all.

Poppy was an amazing man. We had a special relationship and were very close. I left my parents' house 3 days after my high school graduation and moved 2.5 hours away to live with him and my Nannie. I spent every summer and winter break throughout college living with and working for him. After college, I worked for him in Nashville and then when I got married and moved to Nebraska, I took my job with me. And took it again to North Carolina. I worked for my Poppy and his company through four years of college and then full time for six years.

But Poppy was more than just a grandfather or my boss. He and my Nannie took me and my sister(s) on vacations. We stayed in lots of hotels with them and were always allowed to jump on the beds. They took us horseback riding. I stayed with them lots during the summers growing up. He always took us to the pool. He and Nannie took me to my first musical (Into the Woods). Poppy took me to my first college and NFL football games. To lots of minor league baseball games. He took me to many lunches and dinners when I worked for him. And when I didn't. And we always had great conversations when we ate together. He took me to the grand opening celebration of the Titans stadium before a game was ever played there. He used to take me (and all of his grandchildren) for special drives in his Corvette. Later on, he let me drive his Corvette and then drove me to my wedding in that car I loved so much. I have so many wonderful memories with Poppy.

He was a devoted man. A man of his word. So loyal. To a fault sometimes. He worked hard. He was a great businessman. He always treated everyone with respect. He wasn't very patient and he was extremely stubborn. (Thanks for those traits, Poppy. ;-) ) He listened. I could always tell him anything. He loved to give. He loved his family deeply. He loved his friends. He loved the Lord.

He always told me that he was proud of me. And he always told me he loved me. And he loved Luke and our kids. My kids loved him. He was excited we were adopting again, and I hate that he won't meet my girls and that my girls won't get to meet him.

We buried my Poppy a month ago today on August 23rd. I miss him so much, and while I'm excited for all the upcoming holidays, I dread the 'firsts' without him.

I often lie in bed at night and hear his voice before I'm able to fall asleep, "Heeeeeeeeeeey Rebeccaaaaaaaaaa!! How ya doing, gal?!"

I'm ok, Poppy. No, I'm good. I'm really, really good. But I miss you. So much.

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