I Remember

watchI remember the hydrangea bush in the backyard, a source for many pretend-wedding bouquets.

I remember the sleeve of stale saltines.

I remember choking on irony and tragedy as the vet told me she’d finally feel relief right before she died.

I remember the ungodly amounts of scotch tape my grandmother used to adhere red and green wrapping paper to our Mattel dolls and new sweaters.

I remember the comfortingly silent Skype calls that we refused to end until 4am.

I remember the moment I decided I couldn’t love her anymore and how I stopped saying those three words altogether.

I remember when she told me she planned to overdose at summer camp.

I remember looking at my hands and wondering whether that dark red juice came from my veins or the freshly picked blackberries.

I remember touching a drop of holy water to my tongue, mystified that it tasted so impure.

I remember dancing along to Cats wearing ears and a tail, always wishing I could be the powerfully graceful white cat.

I remember how at the end of the night he meticulously removed every single one of the fifty-seven bobby pins that held my prom updo together.

I remember asking him to pay half for Plan B.

I remember telling them I had dinner plans, but didn’t say they were with a bowl of leftover spaghetti and the rhythmic clang of my jean buttons beating against the dryer wall.

Welcome to Microvember, my take on NaBloPoMo. Each day this month I’ll be posting microfiction, short vignettes, or poetry, accompanied by photography. See more Microvember posts here

Adapted from I Remember #1, I Remember #2, and I Remember #3

10 thoughts on “I Remember

  1. Pingback: I Remember… (Second Edition) – It's a Britta Bottle!

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