I am Heidi, one of Poppy’s younger sisters. I have written this blog about what I have learnt about grief.
What Grief Really Feels Like
What I have learnt about grief is that it does not stay the same. It shifts, softens, sharpens, returns in new shapes, the more you grow, the more grief grows with you. In the beginning, it was loud, an all-consuming ache that filled every room. Now it is quieter, but no less present. It shows up in unexpected moments: hearing a song she loved, seeing someone with her laugh, doing something she used to love doing- getting your nails done, going to the cinema. These moments do not break me, but they remind me of the space she still occupies in my life.
Grief has a strange way of bending time. Some days it feels like my sister’s passing happened yesterday – sharp, impossible. Other days it feels like a lifetime has stretched between then and now, as if the world has moved on without asking whether I was ready. Being the younger sister of someone who has gone too soon is a role I never expected to learn, yet two years on, I am still figuring out what it means.
Losing a Sister and a Sense of Self
When Poppy first died, I felt confused. She had always been the one ahead of me, showing me how to do things, teasing me, protecting me, sometimes annoying me, always shaping me. Losing her felt like I lost the map of who I was supposed to become. I did not just lose a sister; I lost a reference point, a mirror, a guide. And two years later, it is hard to know what to say or do next.
Being the younger sister means I still look for her approval sometimes. I wonder what she would think of the choices I have made, often asking myself, “What would Poppy say?” I imagine her rolling her eyes at some things, cheering me on for others. I have learned that grief is not just missing someone, it is continuing a relationship with them in a different form. She is not here physically, but she is still part of my decisions, my memories, my sense of self.
Grief Is Something You Grow Around
Two years on, people may assume the pain has faded. And in some ways, it has. I laugh again. I make plans. I move forward. But grief is not something you “get over.” It is something you grow around. I have become stronger, more patient, more aware of how fragile and precious life is.
People often tell me I am “mature for my age,” but what they rarely stop to consider is why. Yes, I carry a kind of wisdom that some people do not gain until much later in life. Yes, I move through the world with a steadiness that seems beyond my years. But the truth behind that maturity is simple: grief changes you. You can still enjoy the same things and laugh at the same jokes, yet people do not always understand that when you grieve a loved one, you are also grieving a version of yourself.
The Anxiety That Comes With Sudden Loss
Through my personal experience, I have realised that when someone you love is taken without warning, your sense of stability is shaken, and your mind learns too quickly that life can change in a heartbeat. Ordinary moments can trigger a rush of fear, and even small uncertainties feel heavier than they used to. Sudden loss teaches you that the unimaginable can happen, and that lesson lingers. And when you are young, that weight can feel even more confusing. You are still learning who you are, still figuring out the world, yet suddenly you are carrying worries that most people your age have not had to face. While others might stress about school, friendships, or the future, you are also managing the weight of losing someone else, the fear of something terrible happening again. It is important to know this anxiety is not a flaw, it is a natural response to having your world changed too soon, too suddenly, and too deeply.
There are days I feel proud of how far I have come. There are days I feel angry she is not here. And there are days I feel grateful for the years we had, even though they were not enough. All these feelings coexist, and I have stopped trying to tidy them into something neat. While feeling all of this, Poppy is still a huge part of my life, and I feel her around me loads.
Turning Tragedy Into Purpose
Poppy’s Light Foundation is a positive mission that has come from a tragedy. My family and I have a place to put the anger and uncertainty, to help other families avoid going through our experience. When Poppy first passed away, I had never heard of this condition, but now we can raise awareness so that people know just as much about inherited cardiac conditions as diabetes or epilepsy. This charity can support people, can educate people, and can slowly start to save lives. If there had been a charity like this to help Poppy before the unimaginable happened, my life and my family’s would look very different.
Grief and Love, Side by Side
Two years on, I am still her younger sister. That has not changed. What has changed is how I honour her, by living in a way she would be proud of, by remembering her with love instead of only pain, and by allowing myself to grow even though she is not physically here to see it. I now know, more than ever, that I am surrounded by people who care so much about me, people whom I have met on my grief journey and those who I knew before, for which I am so lucky and endlessly grateful!
Grief does not end. But neither does love. And I am learning that both can live side by side.
If Heidi’s story resonates with you, you are not alone. We offer free psychological support and counselling for families and young people affected by inherited cardiac conditions. Learn more about Sudden Arrhythmic Death Syndrome (SADS) and screening, or find out who we help.