Click here to read about why I scribble every day. Even if you have different reasons, I hope you start scribbling, too. :)
I.
Inspiration: I'm not sure. One moment I was waiting to get my hair cut, the next, I was scribbling on my phone. *shrug*
It's strange, what you remember about a person--what stays with you--when he or she is no longer in your life.
I thought of you today, unexpectedly.
I remembered
Your earlobes
Small hands
The way you looked at me when it was just us, and you saw me.
I could hear your husky voice, the way you say my name.
Used to say my name.
Years and experiences, both terrible and good, whittled down to a few details.
Small hands
The way you looked at me when it was just us, and you saw me.
They remind me that you were once flesh and bone and air to a younger version of me. But that was a lifetime ago.
The last thing I said was, I love you. I should've said
Thanks
For letting me go.
Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I hope you're well.
II.
What do you remember about the ghosts from your past? What has stayed with you even after they're gone? I tend to remember strange details:
- the way a friend always smelled like sugar and frosting
- my favorite professor's nail polish
- the crunch of pea gravel on my favorite patio
What do you remember?
The ghosts of my past leave behind a trail of lessons that are invaluable to my growth as a woman in a relationship. That is my positive twist on what I would normally respond with.
ReplyDelete@Nannette: Your ghosts teach me lessons, too. Thanks for sharing them with me. :) (Way to stay positive! :))
ReplyDeleteInspiration: last night's Predators game
ReplyDeleteI remember your smile.
Everyone who knew you remembers your smile.
I remember the way you were tender and kind and caring. Always. {Except maybe on the hockey rink.}
And I remember my gut-wrenching fear, and I remember losing you.
But you see, because I lost you, I didn't lose the rest of my life when he came around, tender and kind and caring. Always. {Except maybe - no - always.}
When we all lost you, he came with me to grieve, to listen to Toby Keith sing American Soldier while we watched {through tears} you on a screen, flashing smile after smile after smile.
Just before I gave him forever, I saw your Mom who has known me since I was 5, and who gave you your smile. I told her I had been afraid and faltered and lost you, but when I met him, I was determined to not falter, to not lose him, although I was afraid. {You were always brave. Always.} And she gave me your smile, a sweet whisper of it, one last time, through tears and gratitude.
It's me who is forever grateful.
And so 12 years after I lost you, almost 8 years since we all lost you, I went to a hockey game. And they honored a soldier on the megatron, and he smiled.
And I remembered your smile.
Thank you. Thank you for teaching me to be brave when he came around.
And thank you. Thank you for everything, which still doesn't say enough.
I cried when I read this. And then I re-read it and cried again.
DeleteI can't begin to tell you how moved I am by your response to this scribble. I keep trying to articulate my feelings in a way that makes sense, but I can't seem to get it right. So I'll just tell you how I feel:
I feel joy and love and tenderness and sorrow and gratitude and loss and missing.
Those are a lot of feelings to feel at once. (They're all kind of smooshed together.)
Thank you for writing it. Thank you for sharing him with me. He must have been an exceptional man.