MemoriesOfCamellias

The week floods with memories. And they run past like surging waters.

They rush so quickly, and I reach in and grab what I can.

And so I will not forget Wednesday evening because I’m holding it again. Looking her straight in those eyes like mine and reminding her the truth: you are not too much and we love you and this is what family is for and you are not broken.

I remember the shimmer in her eyes. The shimmer that runs straight through a girl when she realizes again that she is really loved and it’s not for anything she does but because of who she is.

I remember walking into the coffee shop and spying her and knowing right away it was her — the one I’ve gotten to know through these online pages, and I held camellias in a jar. They were beautiful and open, just like she is, and she studied the petals like I would have and gave me a huge squeeze with those arms warmed by the gas fireplace.

I remember the pride on J’s face when she showed me her spelling test and that smile when her weekly writing came together, and we got to illustrate, accenting with bright pieces of tissue paper her drawing of the puppy who ate spring flowers. And even though her sisters played outside, J didn’t mind because this is fun, too, Mama.

I remember my papa playing Wii, heading the virtual soccer ball like the young athlete he was and us all laughing at those mini-me penguins dropping off icebergs.

I remember the way Lala caught surprise hail on the playground, running crazy circles with her tongue thrust out as far as she could stretch it. Six, Mama. I caught six. Yummy!

Things I want to remember fall like baby hail stones, and I stretch to catch and taste them, and they are so delicious.

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I’m joining up again with the Five Minute Friday community of friends over at Lisa-Jo‘s where we write for five minutes, refrain from extreme editing and speak words of encouragement to one another. Today began with the prompt: REMEMBER.

Five Minute Friday

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