Poppi

I miss Poppi. He was the very first person that I lost that was close to me.

I want to hear him whistle one more time. Not whistling to the tune of a
song, just random sounds; lower pitch than higher pitch. Repeat.

Him standing around dressed so conservativly; sweater vest and famous
long khaki coat, waiting to go to church or a family function, celebrating
a birthday, a first communion, a graduation. There was always time for
celebrating in my family.

"How do you do?", sitting on the bench in the neighborhood and pulling the
overgrown weeds coming up through the cracks in the driveway.

He loved the outdoors. He loved golf, everyday except Sunday. For most
men it's the other way around. Sunday was dedicated to church and family.

I want to share stuff with him, I want him to see me grown now.