She was my cherry blossom.
An unrivaled beauty, limited in its life. A beauty so extreme in its grace that it can’t last. It stays to enrich our lives, then drifts away in the wind. Never forgotten. Because it reminds us we must live. That life is fragile, yet in that fragility, there is strength. There is love. There is purpose. It reminds us that life is short, that our breaths are numbered and our destiny is fixed, regardless of how hard we fight.
It reminds us not to waste a single second. Live hard, love harder. Chase dreams, seek adventures … capture moments.
Live beautifully.
I swallowed as these thoughts swirled in my mind. Then Poppy held out her hand. “Take me through the grove, baby,” she asked softly. “I want to experience this with you.”
Lowering the camera to rest around my neck, I moved behind her wheelchair and pushed her along the dried dirt path. Poppy breathed in, slow and measured. The girl that I loved drank it all in. The beauty of this moment. A wish fulfilled.
Arriving at our tree, its branches bustling with pastel pinks, I took a blanket from the back of her chair and placed it on the ground. I lifted Poppy into my arms and set us down beneath our tree, the view of the grove spread before us.
Poppy laid her back against my chest. And she sighed, she held my hand that lay over her stomach, and she whispered, “We made it.”
Shifting her hair from her neck, I placed a kiss on her warm skin. “We did, baby.”
She paused for a minute. “It’s like a dream … it’s like a painting. I want heaven to look exactly like this.”
Instead of feeling hurt or sad at her comment, I instead found myself wanting it for Poppy. Wanting so badly for her to have this, forever.
I could see how tired she was. I could see that she was in pain. She never said so, but she didn’t need to. She spoke to me without words.
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.”