exit

when i was young and i wanted to make myself cry i would think about my grandpa dying. not just any grandparent, Poppy. it was always him. not my parents, probably because i was so young i probably hadn't yet realized that my parents were going to die.

when Poppy died dane was flying over northern california. he was over lake shasta and the siskyous with all that beautiful blue water and those green trees.

when Poppy died i was sitting on my bed, petting my new kitten, reading encyclopedia of an ordinary life, waiting for paterson to come over.

when Poppy died my dad was sitting next to him. "he went peacefully." that is what he told me on the phone. he called me ten minutes after it happened. when i hung up i felt the world continueing to move; it kept rotating. the girl outside was laughing, the gate of my apartment creaked open, i still had laundry in the dryer.

when i was visiting Poppy earlier in the week i laid across his bed and grabbed his hand. i was happy that he squeezed back. i was tired. so was he. and i closed my eyes and held his hand. his skin hung off his bones. his eyes were nearly crusted shut. when he breathed a whistle came from his mouth. a hospice social worker showed up and filled the room with artifical sweetness. she was equal or splenda in our black coffee. she repeated everything my grandma said in a whisper and used the word blessing a lot. "what a blessing," she whispered. she refered to Poppy as my grandma's, "handsome guy," in a whisper.

while dane and i drove down to mcminnville we listened to patsy kline. the sky was turning purple. and all the lights on the highway--the fred meyer's sign, the gas station lights--were perfect. so often that drive can feel like wading though mud, so slow, but it felt like a comfortable floating, like we were being pulled to mcminnville by a tractor beam.

once we got there we met my family at the brew pub. they were eating and drinking and my grandma had cried all her make up off and told me that it was so great that i got to sit with Poppy on monday. i agreed and hugged her tighter and kissed her head. i loved kissing Poppy's head. i loved the smell of his forehead. i would kiss, smell, and then say i love you Poppy.