a collection of memories

reminiscing about my family & childhood.

I notice the fine lines and wrinkles on your face and I want to glaze over them with a magic paintbrush, maybe dip your body in the fountain of youth. I remember the lullabies you would sing me to sleep and I swore you would never stop singing them. But now I don’t fit in that bed anymore and you come home tired and I would rather be out with my friends so the singing has stopped.

I never used to notice the lines and blemishes and the undereye bags you carry with you daily. But you still have that smile on your face that shines like the sun and you always know how to make a person laugh. It’s odd sometimes how your face is so contrasting. You look so tired but so full of energy all at the same time, and I can’t help but wonder if you’re putting that smile on just for me.

I walked by the pond the other day, the same route we used to take. I remember the last time we had all been there, the three of us, because Skyler didn’t want to come. The last time it was all four of us was too long to remember. I had your camera with me because I thought maybe I could be good at it just like you and we all took a photo together. The dog was there, and I think that was the last time we had taken him to the park, all three of us.

I don’t believe in ghosts or spirits but I swear he was there with me, walking right next to me, wagging his little tail. And I could almost hear the shaky panting he did when he was tired of walking and his tongue would stick out. I could see him smiling. We walked the route we always did. When we got to the small doggy pond we always went to I saw the lock and realized it had shut down. A tear slid down my cheek because a chapter had closed. It was all a memory now.

Every time I see you, you’re older now. I miss being kids, when life was simple and you still loved me like I was your best friend. But you’ve grown up, put on your big boy pants and sip the beer even though you prefer Sprite. And when you’re gone I don’t exist anymore because for some reason I’m not included in your bubble of a world. I try to pound on the doors, I scream for you to let me in. I even cry, because I know if you don’t let me in now you never will. But the doors stay shut so I peer through the window and I can see you with your new friends in your new little world. Sometimes I’m jealous of how you can be so carefree. When I’m a ball of fire you’re a cool autumn breeze, going with the wind. Sometimes it feels like you’re a wall and nothing I say or do penetrates. I could throw rocks, I could bring a bulldozer, but nothing can break down your wall. And behind that wall is that little boy I knew long ago, the boy who laughed and smiled with a toothy grin. The boy who got excited about things, the boy who had passions. I just want him back.

I want all of it back. But it’s just a collection of memories now.