An Out of Place Mind

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Remember when?

I’m six or seven years and I remember the excitement of seeing the Vega, painted purple and white, pulling into the back of the school and I ran around telling everyone, “That’s my Dad!” Seeing you build a car from scratch and being able to tell everyone about it made me so excited. I watched you do the damn thing.

I’m nine years old and I remember when you let me paint your nails for Halloween. You were dressed up as Micheal Meyers or someone like that. You fit the part perfectly. I was so excited to do your nails for you. You just sat there and let me do them, even if you had the polish on your skin. I believe this was the year Emily and I found the baby rabbit outside and I made you go outside to get it. We named him Bentley and we put him in an aquarium. Honestly, bless you. The tank went back and forth in the truck because Emily and I had to have certain weekend visitations.

I’m now twelve years old and I’m signed up for softball. You’re on the sides, behind the fence, yelling at me to run those bases and I do, because seeing the glow in your face while I do something I love makes me happy. The year that I started to act out. God, if I could just hear you yell at me once, I’d be happy.

This year was also the year we would watch New Moon together, you were so excited when Jacob had turned into the wolf. You thought it was so badass and I loved that you loved watching those movies with me

I’m fourteen and you probably weren’t too excited to have a daughter with the same attitude and stubbornness as yourself. We went at each other’s necks all the time, but I’m just like you, and all parts of me love that.

I’m eighteen and you’re making me cry at my graduation. The shine in your baby blue eyes that I wish I got when I come out with my diploma. You looked at me head on and said you were proud and in that moment, I knew you were. I knew I had made it.

I’m half of you and in these moments, I am so grateful that I am. I need you to wake up because I need to tell you the things that I’m always scared to tell you. I need to hear you yell at me again, I need to hear you say, “see you later, baby. Be careful.”

I just need you.

I’ve been giving you three squeezes each time I see you. Our new way of saying, I love you.

Remember when we kicked ass at this and you came home.





-K.