When Pops died and it was just me and Lydia, Pops’ grave was my safe haven, my peaceful place. When I lost Lydia I stopped coming. I couldn’t face who I was. If I came here I knew I would have to accept what I’d become. Pops wouldn’t have wanted this for me. He would be so disappointed in the things I’ve done, who I’ve become. The thought tightens my throat. I don’t want to be that, it’s not who I am. I swallow, and feel my heart pounding. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to accept anything past losing Lydia. I shut myself down. I didn’t feel remorse, I didn’t feel bad, I feel joy. I just didn’t feel. Now standing here, my heart sinking to my stomach, I know I need this. To accept. To forget. To move on. To live. Pops would want me to live. I take a breath and convince my feet to move forward. I find Pops’ grave quickly, not ever forgetting where my daddy is.
