There are so many things I want to remember always.
A poem I read about a mother’s love and her flaws,
a mama bear
but fiercely human.
The time we went hiking through the woods at night
hoping they were haunted,
laughing and shushing and scaring ourselves silly,
and how young and beautiful we all were
when the clouds let the moon shine.
The way my sister got the scar on her face,
how it took a chain link hook catching her in the lip
for me to realize how precious and small she was.
And how I cried harder than she did
and I wished it had been me.
My childhood hamster’s funeral,
when my dad said a prayer for Honey
as we laid him to rest
in our backyard behind the clothesline.
And the way my dad held us
and didn’t ask us to stop crying.
The first kiss from my first love,
and how it really was like ecstasy because
I've been chasing that dragon for years
and no other kisses were ever as good
as the first time his teeth hit mine and he suckled my bottom lip.
My grandfather’s love for old time music,
and how any random word could spark
the memory of some ancient-to-me bluegrass tune
that he would start singing, so loud and with such gusto,
and trying to continue the conversation was pointless
so I would stop talking and just
until his ohhh susannah mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm melodies
had me in a fit of giggles.
A book I read when I was seven,
and a song I heard yesterday on the radio that made me cry,
and the time when a little girl told me she wished I was her mom
because I acted like one and I loved her better anyways.
So many things.
I know I will get old one day and it will all start to just
like the blue in my eyes and the sounds around me,
it will all fade away.
I write so that,
when the fog sets in,
I will remember.
Forgetting is so scary
when there are things I want to remember always.