Andrea Elizabeth
Stories (1/0)
Knowing me was Key
The Lobby I stood in this dark, poorly lit parlor trying my hardest to remember some of my earliest memories with my mom, but I felt like a mental fog had descended on me these last 2 weeks and everything was harder to navigate. Strangely, I could only remember very early memories that included both my mom and dad despite them having been apart for most my life. The memories were of them being warm and kind to each other which if you had seen them sharing a table at my college graduation dinner you would have never believed. I quickly did the math on this bittersweet memory that seemed locked into the front of my mind like the slides of an old picture show in constant rotation around my fragile emotional state. Twenty-two years ago sounded like a terribly long time ago, but being 26 years old in this position I was in today felt like I was terribly too young to be dealing with the loss of my mother. I felt the prickly sharpness of tears fighting their way forward on the back of my eyeballs and that strange but familiar tightness in my throat that signified my mascara was 7 seconds away from creating a hot Crayola disaster down my face. I felt them, the tears, as they well up in the basin of my eyeballs and glossed over the surface of my eyes.
By Andrea Elizabeth 3 years ago in Families