how to remember who you are
Think of the little girl on the swing set at the park around the corner, who would close her eyes tight, tell her dad to push her - high, but not too high.
Think of the wooden kitchen table. Side by side with your sister. Cut grapefruits sprinkled with a bit of sugar on top. Orange juice for the both of you. Fruit Loops reserved for the trips up north.
Did you ever finish reading any of those books? Did the bookshelf fall down? How many times did he have to repair it? Make a mental note to ask him.
Think of the letters you and your best friend sent each other in the seventh grade. You’d both label them “chapters”, and each one would contain fictional characters.
Think of the first book you ever read. She taught you how to read every single word. But you could never remember how to read: “it.”
What were your favourite books? The Amazing Days of Abby Hayes. The 6th Harry Potter. And, later on - The Fault in Our Stars.
You lost interest in reading any and all books for your English classes, though.
It’s kind of wild, when you think about it. There is a group of adults out there, choosing which books to teach a group of kids. What 14 year old will appreciate The Great Gatsby? I only understand the meaning now. And I think it’s because of Leonardo DiCaprio and TikTok edits.
What was your sister doing? Drawing comics. Making CDs from playlists on the computer. Playing The Sims. You would lay on the floor beside her. That grey carpet.
What about the memory boxes underneath the bed? They were treasure chests. Anything you didn’t know you’d want to remember - she put them in there. Cards. School projects. Photos. Old diaries.
Your bedroom walls were painted pink. There was a floral duvet. A closet to hide in. A winding staircase. A chandelier.
Where is that memory box? Ask Dad.
Who did she want to be? Do we hate that question? “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Does anyone ever actually “grow up”? Or is it time just aging us all?
Would we go back, if we could? I was too young to realize the novelty of it all.
How would she define success? I don’t think she would use the word success. I think she’d just ask how much pink there is.
Meaning, she’d be happy. There’s a bowl of pink lipglosses on our living room table. And I still wear my glasses every night before bed.
Cleaning my abandoned for 20 years childhood home awaits me in two weeks. I'll open so many boxes like this. But your words made me feel that I'm not the only one who's got memories. 🥹🤍
The Amazing Days of Abby Hayes!!! TBT I always wrote with purple gel pens because of that series