Chasing that dragon.

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

listen

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

fade

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.