Sunday, March 3, 2013

That one time.....

         How does a person pick one favorite memory when there is more than one?  The first time I scored a touchdown in schoolyard football? no, no.  The time I got to sleep through the last few months of 8th grade history because of a broken arm? not this time.  The first time you got to meet your friend, a dog named Winston?  this could be  How about the time you were sitting in the seat next to your father as a young boy, happy just to be in the front seat for once, as he was driving you and your brother home across state to your mother.  And while riding along watching the fields fly by, you couldn't help listening to your older brother as he was saying how much he loved being with his father, and all the fun he had in the short time with him; in this moment so full of joy for your brother you look at your father, and see tears falling down his face, sadness that he let go of without making a sound, falling from behind his dark sunglasses.  the only time I ever saw my dad cry  Don't forget about all the times you were broken, laying in hospital beds, damning your existence.  And you would look over and see your mother, smiling and doing everything she could do to alleviate the physiological and psycological anguish boiling over inside of you.  Deep down knowing that without her beside your bed, you would not be able to handle what you were going through.  The fear growing stronger in the knowledge that one day you would have to.

I will always hold comfort in these memories.  They are the strongest I know.

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