Swimming — Family
Maybe I didn't know you until that moment. I've spent my whole life trying to, pillaging your jewelry box and dresser drawers, trying on your shoes, studying your method of applying lipstick and brushing your hair. I can hear your voice, clear and crisp as autumn air, even when your lips are pressed together, silent, twelve hundred miles away. I know your scent, I try to replicate it now that I'm older, mixing perfume oils and incense like I'm a scientist in a lab, but I still haven't gotten it right. I know your past, where you've come from, who you used to be and who you are now. I've watched you grow old and wrinkle, lose your mind, a husband, a home, and regain it all back again. I've tasted your tears on my cheek, listened to your heart beat, felt your skin, always so smooth, I don't know how you do it. Food tastes better when you cook it, soda sweeter when it's from your glass, it's just a fact, ask my father. I know what songs will make you dance, how when you sing along to a song on the radio you sing off key, but really, you've got the sweetest voice. I know that you chew with your mouth open and it still bugs me as much as it did fifteen years ago. I know how sensitive you are, being so beautiful yet still so insecure, it's a quality I've inherited to one degree or another. You never think your smart enough and it shows when you frown, yet you're the one I call whenever I have a question. I've spent a lifetime with you, my lifetime, and I've spent years running away from you and then years after that running towards you. But maybe I didn't know you until that moment.
This is the most beautiful thing you have ever written, I am so proud of you.
Your Dad is right Doll. You have an amazing ability to paint emotional pictures with your words. I love these posts from you. It makes me feel really happy to read this one in particular. . . wish I could write something likes this about my Mom. . .
That was beautiful.
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