Before that first September, my experience with grief was fairly limited. I had lost an uncle when I was very little, and I was sad, but it was mostly because I didn't like seeing my mother cry. I had loved and lost a plethora of small fluffy animals, each one breaking my heart when it left this world, but my parents were able to sew it back together when they placed the next soft bundle in my arms. So while I was no stranger to death, I hadn't yet felt the type of grief that makes you ache in places you never realised sadness could reach. My first experience with this was September 2014.
My pop had been old my entire life, he was 74 when I was born. He'd had countless heart issues and hospital scares, all things which should have clued me in to the fact that he wouldn't be around forever. Still, somehow each time he made it back home, or turned another year older, it cemented further in my mind that he was immortal.
I was lying in bed with my boyfriend enjoying a lazy Saturday when I got the call from my mother. Pop had been taken into the hospital in an ambulance. 'He's going to be alright though?' It came out as a question when I meant it to be a statement. I could tell from the gentleness of her tone that this was not the case. 'They don't think he's going to come out this time.' I hung up the phone and dissolved into tears.
I went and visited him the next day. He didn't look well, but he still gave me a smile and a kiss when he saw me. He was disgruntled, because the nurses had taken his watch and wouldn't let him wear it. I remember thinking that a man with that much fight couldn't just die.
The next day I was at work and suddenly the queue parted and my mother was standing there. 'It's happening.' We walked to the hospital clutching each other, tears streaming silently down our faces. He passed away that night. We got one more hug and a kiss, but no more smiles. Everyone came to my unit after for a cup of tea, and when Nan walked in the door she gave me a sad smile. 'We lost Poppy.'
I'm sure that most people who have lost someone will