Looking Back

I remember the smell of my grandmas perfume. The sweet yet vintage smell.

I remember when you called be beautiful.

I remember when I first started falling for you.

I remember the first time I rode my bike, the fear, the excitement, the freedom.

I remember when my best friend was shy and quiet. I created a monster.

I remember playing in the sprinklers. My cousin was visiting, the water twirling, our hair was drenched. Then my cousin poked me in the eye with a stick; we stopped playing after that.

I remember the smell of chocolate chip cookies.

I remember when bookshops smelled of books and not coffee; not that I mind the coffee smell.

I remember the smell of coffee when our friends and family came to visit our new home.

I remember our family reunion, and the barbecue that we had. The games, the laughter, and the drinking that was going on. I remember one of my aunts tripping on an inch of cement; and my cousin yelling "And there she goes."

I remember when pluto was a planet.

I remember when google was just a search engine.

I remember my mother's prayers, and they have followed me. They have clung to me all of my life.

I remember Thanksgiving at my grandparents house. And hating that we had to drive an hour just to get there. I remember wanting to leave. But then we started playing games and having fun.

I remember the last bell in elementary school.

I remember everything I want to forget.

I remember my 7th birthday party. My dad was painting my face, like he did at all of my parties.

I remember my dad chasing my around the kitchen with pliers in his hands. trying to catch my and pull my loose tooth out.

I remember him cooking pizza every Friday.

I remember him coming home from work everyday just was we were all sitting down at the table to eat dinner. He always showed up on time.

I remember sleeping by his side.

I remember the tattoo of an Indian chief on his shoulder. I remember it not being finished, he never went back to get it colored in; because he met my mom.

I remember coming home on Sunday. My dad sitting on the couch with whatever game was on that day.

I remember the day the police came to our house, and told us he had died in a car accident.

I remember seeing my mother cry.

I remember

I remember

I don't remember the sound of his voice.