Before

I remember forgetting.

I remember being so mad I scared my brother to tears and immediately felt super guilty.

I remember loving vampire movies and watching them late at night wearing a turtleneck and hiding garlic under my pillow.

I remember my first dog dying.

I remember shooting the moon in a game of Hearts.

I remember my first art exhibit, my first painting sale, the price and the name of the buyer.

I remember rollerblading in the hot summer of the Jersey Shore.

I remember taking chances.

I remember getting home after school and not being able to unlock the front door with my key. I wet my pants and burst into tears. Then the door opened.

I remember meditating one morning and getting a very clear message TO GO FOR IT.

I remember living in NYC and feeling invincible.

I remember trying so hard.

I remember my first job cleaning houses.

I remember learning.

I remember feeling too big for my body, just wanting to burst.

I remember swimming in the ocean and getting pretty beat up really fast. Undertow is a relentless force. When I got out from under, I held onto the sand.

I remember wishing I was someone else.

I remember my first school dance and sitting the whole time.

I remember watching my mom cry on the telephone and using her distraction as an opportunity to eat an entire stick of butter.

I remember placing all the pillows in our home outside the window, two stories down, because we were fascinated with the idea of flying.

I remember making lemonade.

I remember being afraid and not knowing what to do.

I remember my daughter sitting on my lap, unwilling to move.

I remember running around the neighborhood, all day long, with my friends.

I remember not getting caught.

I remember wonderful deep conversation with my brother.

I remember crying and not actually feeling sad.

I remember saying yes when I really wanted to say no.

I remember being so happy, so simple, so free.

I remember singing with my sister.

I remember my daughter's magical powers. She is a tremendous gift.

I remember my first airplane ride with my brother to visit our grandma.

I remember my dad and how his laugh used to make me smile, those comforting sounds.

I remember summer camp and how it wasn't like in the movies.

I remember driving my mom's car through the closed garage door.

I remember feeling lost.

I remember loving so deeply my heart sang out loud.

I remember my son in the Hong Kong airport telling me he wanted to try octopus soup.

I remember being pregnant and talking to my growing baby.

I remember walking in Nature and feeling protected.

I remember lying for friends and getting in trouble.

I remember making a big decision and being afraid the whole time.

I remember being held by someone I trusted.

I remember my daughter asking me why I had to pick such a hot country when I took us to Thailand.

I remember being willing to take a chance.

I remember listening.

I remember Santa Fe in December with my kids.

I remember feeling safe.

I remember biking to the hospital to pick up a prescription because I wanted a different experience.

I remember nothing, sometimes.

I remember feeling ashamed that I wasn't somebody else.

I remember leaving my husbands.

I remember swimming with my mom from Alcatraz and the Blue Angels flying overhead.

I remember choosing me.

I remember using the last of the flour to bake banana bread, knowing I would not be able to get anymore at the store during the pandemic.

I remember thinking I might be okay.

I remember my mom laughing so hard and feeling really lucky to be with her in that moment.

I remember changing my mind.

I remember TODAY is real and TOMORROW is fantasy.

I remember how my son, the charmer, can get my heart to flip when he smiles at me.

I remember the beauty of it all, up until now, especially the wrenching hard stuff.

I remember being alone together.