for poppy

"Poppy”, I said, breaking the calm and soothing silence of a fourth floor hospital room. I’d been watching the second hand on the clock move in a familiar and granted circle; it didn’t audibly tick in a loud, jolting way, the way it would in an office or in math class, it just glided calmly around itself smoothly, silently, effortlessly, endlessly. “Poppy, does time go fast or slow?” Poppy looked at me, and looked at the clock, and he watched as it sailed swiftly around and around and around. And through bright blue eyes I could see the fullness of his heart, the passion and pride for his wife and his children, the unparalleled gratitude for laughter and music and a dang good rack of sloppy barbeque ribs. I saw seventy-four fulfilled and brilliant years’ worth of giving, learning, discovering, and building. I saw, just then, all the reasons that this man has maintained a fortressed and irreplaceable place in my heart for twenty four years. “Kiddo”, he said, smiling in a twist of angelic adorability and deviant rascality- in that way only Poppy could smile, in that way we’ve all known and loved our whole lives- “time goes really fast, kiddo, when you think about it.” May we all learn from Poppy to find treasure in every smooth and silent second passed, and to Poppy, a man I miss deeply already, may you rest easy and free forever.