Poppy,

It hasn’t even been a year since you’ve been gone, but I still miss you every waking minute of every day.
Ever since I was a little girl, you were always there with me. From every skating show, school play, science fair, birthday, holiday, anything. You were there, smiling and telling me how proud you were of me. You were a huge part of my life and now that you’re gone, a piece of me feels empty.

I know everyone tells me you’ll be with us in spirit and in the memories we cherish, but most days those memories aren’t enough. I am no stranger to death—other family members had passed before you, but I was either too young to really remember them or we just weren’t as close. Even though I know it’s inevitable when it takes away someone you’re so close to, it’s an entirely different story.

Thanksgiving was hard. Harder than Easter, even, despite the fact that was the first major holiday you were gone. Maybe it was because we had so many people over and we just kept busy with cooking, and baking, and being happy. But Thanksgiving was our holiday. You, Grammy, Uncle Lee, and Grammy and Poppy Taraian (my dad’s parents), would all come over for dinner. We’d catch up on everything, and laugh, and eat. We’d have a good time, even though for the last two years, Grammy didn’t really remember what was going on.

As Thanksgiving got closer and closer, I kept wishing for you to be there. I ached, thinking about your seat at the head of the table is taken. I wanted so badly to tell you about how school was going, how I was going to be graduating in the spring, how well my internships were going, and everything in between. I wanted you to be there so badly.

And Christmas is going to be even harder. When we decorated the tree, I couldn’t help but think about what you would’ve said about it: “The tree looks BEA-U-tiful.” That’s how you used to say beautiful when you were excited about something. Again, even though we’ll be spending Christmas Eve with the bigger side of the family, Christmas will be a completely different story. It was just you, Grammy, and Uncle Lee who would come over. Now that you're gone and Grammy’s at the nursing home, it’s going to be even worse without you there.

New Years was another holiday we would spend together. We’d stay up all night waiting for the ball to drop, playing board games or watching “The Twilight Zone” marathon. Then the adults would give Rachel and I a sip of champagne once the clock struck twelve and we’d wish each other a Happy New Year.

These first few holidays are going to be rough, I know. And everyone keeps saying the hurt will go away. But what if when the hurt goes away, so do the memories? I always used to joke about how terrible my memory is, but it’s not a joke anymore. What if I really start forgetting all of my memories of you? What if I can’t remember the way you used to say things or how you used to always need to put salt on all the foods you would eat? What if I simply forget? I don’t ever want that to happen and I’m scared of the day when I actually do. I guess I’ll just have to remember you through the stories Mom and Uncle Lee and Dad will tell me at dinners or during the holidays.

I miss you so much, Poppy. The first month you were gone was really rough. I was sad all the time and I used to cry myself to sleep. Once the summertime finally rolled around, I wanted so badly to tell you I had changed my major. I wasn’t going to be a teacher anymore, even though that’s what I thought I wanted since I was a little girl. Instead, I found my passion for writing, reading, and editing. I wanted to tell you how excited I was that I was finally pursuing the dream I had kept on the back burner for so long because I thought I was meant to be a teacher. I’ve prayed to you, so I’m hoping you already know.

Even though I know you’ll never be able to come back, even though I’ll never really know if you’re with us in spirit, even though my memories might fade, I still have people around me who remind me of you. There’s Mom who cooks like you did and there’s Uncle Lee who has all the funny stories that cracks everyone up. Together, they have enough memories to last a lifetime, so, I suppose, in a way, you will live on through memories: their memories. Christmas might be difficult this year—and all the other holidays to come—but I guess I just have to remember I still have my other wonderful family members, the ones who understand the pain and who are there for all of us.

You touched so many lives, Poppy, mine especially. So I promise to keep making you proud.

I love you.

-Michelle