Once again, it’s been a while since I posted a blog, and unfortunately, this one comes with some sadness. On the 10th January, Hope lost one of her biggest supporters, her poppy, my dad. It’s been a hard thing to process, and I realised the one thing that I do to process, is write things down. So here I am… I want to talk about Hope’s poppy, Morris.

Poppy Morris was a great man, a great husband to mum, an amazing father to my 5 brothers and I, and a fantastic and well loved poppy to his eleven grandkids. He was one of Hope’s biggest supporters. He would be the first one to like anything we posted, he would share everything on his Facebook page and he always commented about how proud he was and encouraged her. At his funeral, I met someone who told me just how proud he was of Hope. She would often be a topic of conversation and he’d be sharing the lastest with them and making sure they had seen everything we’d posted. Even though he lived on the opposite side of Australia, he always made sure we knew how much he loved Hope and our boys.

As a kid, I remember dad being a strong man. He never complained about anything. He pushed through the hard times, and trust me, we had a few growing up. He never showed when things were worrying him. He was also a fun man. He made the most boring chores, like washing dishes, more enjoyable by singing and dancing in the kitchen. He would sit in the back of the car with us kids and wave at the other cars going past. He even sang the most ridiculous song at bedtime that somehow made us feel safe. And he was also firm in the ways that mattered, raising us to be disciplined and respectful. He let us make mistakes and helped steer us toward the right choices, in his own special “dad” way.

Dad didn’t come along to all of my dance concerts and competitions over the years, I think he would have fallen asleep if he did, but he was always supportive. Always wished me well and encouraged me. As we grew up, he showed his support in any way he could, always helping out wherever possible. He was there when my brothers had car troubles, and when he came to visit me, he made sure my lawns were in top shape, even taking a trip to Bunnings to be sure I had the right tools to keep them that way. That same support is what we had for Hope, Alexander and Lincoln. He couldn’t always be there for school presentations or performances because we lived too far away, but any time I would tell him about the kids getting an award or performing well or acheiving something new, he would always say “Well done mate. Love you, Poppy”.

Over the Christmas holidays, I spent most of my time in WA. I flew back and forth 4 times, which financially is a crazy thing to do over Christmas, but it’s family and money doesn’t matter. Sometimes the kids were with me, sometimes they were in NSW with Ben. They all had a chance to say goodbye to their poppy, but when they did, it wasn’t goodbye, we had planned to see him again in October and honestly thought that it was possible but he didn’t make it. Thankfully, the last time they saw him, he was sitting up, joking with nurses, asking for icecream (because he loved his icecream), and he was smiling. He wasn’t showing the kids how worried he actually was and I am grateful that they got to see him that one last time like that so that is how they will remember him.

At the moment, Hope wakes up in the morning and asks to go to “Poppy’s house”. When I first went over to WA at the beginning of December, Ben told her I was visiting poppy. Then when she joined me, she knew it as poppy’s house. Poppy’s house has a pool, so she loves Poppy’s house. Even though poppy may not be there, it is still his house and I will let Hope continue to call it that as long as she wants to. She just needs to learn that it takes a 1 hour car trip to the airport, followed by a 5 hour flight and another 1 hour car tip to get there so we can’t go for a swim at poppy’s house every day.

Sadly, I don’t know whether Hope will remember much about her poppy. She knows his face, but she hasn’t spent a great amount of time with him, so I’m not sure that she will remember him the way I wish she could. We might have said goodbye to his body, but his spirit lives on in us, and in the stories we tell. I will keep poppy alive and share plenty of stories with her so she can remember her poppy the way I remember my dad.