On Missing (lives)
Memories have a way of sneaking up on you, of taking you by surprise.
One second you are heading out the door for an autumn walk, and the next you are swept back to fall and football and leaves on the small town Nebraska streets and your hand in your grandpa's. He and grandma have been dead for ten years, and yet in that one small moment you swear you can hear his voice and smell what his his hugs felt like. Would he be proud of me? What would he and grandma think of my house? What would their faces have looked like when I told them I was (finally) dating someone? Would they have cried at my wedding? Would he still give me kisses on the cheek, rubbing his whiskers to make me laugh? Would we still be playing intense games of UNO and Aggravation?
Words come out of someone else's mouth and if you close your eyes you can see the man who said them first. And even though he has been dead for months, you can still see that twinkle in his eyes and feel the love of his intentionality. No, Jerry, I haven't been keeping out of trouble. Have you? We're finally married. And we missed you at our wedding. Thanks for always telling me how proud you were of me. Of us. I miss hearing your laugh that made your face turn red and your head fall back. That usually meant that the rest of us were laughing so hard there were tears in our eyes.
The mundane task of clearing out the spam in your email account: Farmers Only Support: New! Top Profiles Selected Just for Givemeabeafyhorserider. It's been years, and still that day that you sat giggling at the computer with fellow pranksters is clear in your mind. I should probably go unsubscribe from that website, but I just can't bring myself to delete forever that one little memory of the pranks that we pulled on each other. I still think about you on the 6th of every month. I miss your "Are you being safe?" texts. Our Middle Child holiday. Emails with jump kits for EMS wilderness response. Texts of your latest crazy hairdo. I think of you every time I am car dancing. I can't ever outdo your moves, still. Singing, stories, arguing, laughing. I miss you at every reunion, Defompt.
It's a gift, really, having those memories come sneaking into life.
One second you are heading out the door for an autumn walk, and the next you are swept back to fall and football and leaves on the small town Nebraska streets and your hand in your grandpa's. He and grandma have been dead for ten years, and yet in that one small moment you swear you can hear his voice and smell what his his hugs felt like. Would he be proud of me? What would he and grandma think of my house? What would their faces have looked like when I told them I was (finally) dating someone? Would they have cried at my wedding? Would he still give me kisses on the cheek, rubbing his whiskers to make me laugh? Would we still be playing intense games of UNO and Aggravation?
Words come out of someone else's mouth and if you close your eyes you can see the man who said them first. And even though he has been dead for months, you can still see that twinkle in his eyes and feel the love of his intentionality. No, Jerry, I haven't been keeping out of trouble. Have you? We're finally married. And we missed you at our wedding. Thanks for always telling me how proud you were of me. Of us. I miss hearing your laugh that made your face turn red and your head fall back. That usually meant that the rest of us were laughing so hard there were tears in our eyes.
The mundane task of clearing out the spam in your email account: Farmers Only Support: New! Top Profiles Selected Just for Givemeabeafyhorserider. It's been years, and still that day that you sat giggling at the computer with fellow pranksters is clear in your mind. I should probably go unsubscribe from that website, but I just can't bring myself to delete forever that one little memory of the pranks that we pulled on each other. I still think about you on the 6th of every month. I miss your "Are you being safe?" texts. Our Middle Child holiday. Emails with jump kits for EMS wilderness response. Texts of your latest crazy hairdo. I think of you every time I am car dancing. I can't ever outdo your moves, still. Singing, stories, arguing, laughing. I miss you at every reunion, Defompt.
It's a gift, really, having those memories come sneaking into life.
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