Remembering the Departed

A few years ago, I lost someone important to me.  

He was a friend of my family, and related to me by marriage on my mother's side.   He wasn't a blood relative, but his steady presence in our lives over the years had been a backbone to family events, weddings, funerals, graduations and more.   He died rather suddenly  and we were all left quite shocked when he passed.   How could someone who was only yesterday just fine, be gone from our world today? I'm sure many people ask this question. 

My daughter, who at the time was only 5 years old, always called him Poppie.   He was fond of that title, and the name stuck.    Everyone started calling him that.  Two days after he passed, my daughter and I were walking hand in hand across the lawn; the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.   I remarked how beautiful the day was, and my daughter tugged at my hand and said "Mom, look! It's Poppie!"  

Of course I looked, even though I knew Poppie was gone.  Interestingly enough, when I looked, the front section of my lawn was filled with little wild, red poppy blossoms - they were everywhere!  My yard doesn't grow anything normally - dandelions don't even thrive there.    But it was full of poppies.  They were beautiful!

Poppies covering my yard two days after his passing. 

More interesting still was the fact that at the time, my daughter did not know what a poppy looked like or even what it was. She was calling out "Poppie" - as in, the nickname she'd given our dear friend who was recently departed.    I explained to her that these were flowers, and they were called poppies.  She shook her head at me and said, "No, mom. I'm not talking about the flowers."    

I felt a very deep reverence then, because it seemed to me that we were a part of something much greater than ourselves, much larger, and that we were bystanders to a process that had little to do with our physical senses, and much more to do with the interconnectedness of everything.  

Did my deceased friend render himself as poppies on my yard?  I can't tell you yes or no.  Modern science would pick this apart piece by piece.   I recognize that.  But I can tell you with certainty that my yard has never - before or since - produced any poppy blossoms whatsoever.   

I like to think it was Poppie - and that he was telling us in the only way we would understand given our current limitations that he is alright, that he goes on, and that life - consciousness, mind, whatever you want to call it - doesn't end when our bodies die.