(no subject)
When I was younger, maybe three or four, my mom would get up in the morning, before noon. She was maybe a year away from going back to work, and me from starting school. She would watch All My Children and make some coffee for herself, and always give me a cup too. It may seem unconventional, but I liked it at the time (the only time in my life when I can remember liking the taste of coffee). I remember her most back then, even though my memory is fuzzy from the time that has passed. I would watch her watch her soaps and workout to the Israeli man on tv with the 80s hairstyle. I always believed he could see me through the television, and was yelling at me to stop being a baby and get up and work out with him. My mother just seemed a lot more present then, before the deaths of her brother, of her parents. Before all the intricate mix of medications that would make it so she can get out of bed before three in the afternoon, and stop talking about her wishes of a tornado coming to hit the house and knock her out, just like that. Still, I know this was the time when she would still lock herself in her bedroom and blast REM on her stereo (full volume) when she was upset, even when the neighbors would call the police to complain of the noise. Though I love that band, I still think of this whenever I listen to Out of Time. This was the time when she would throw the sculptures my sister (and later I) would bring home from school at my father, who would artfully dodge them as they shattered against the walls of the house, leaving their own indentations. But despite these things, this is still when I remember her at least being there. Sometimes now I will ask her, "hey, do you remember my Mickey Mouse night light?", "remember the things Jennifer and I brought home from school?" or even about our old pets, and she doesn't remember any of it, but at least my father does. A few nights ago, as she set down in her comfy chair, she asked me if I remembered having coffee with her before she went back to work. I told her yes, and she smiled. At least we'll always have that.