I remember what you looked like. And I remember what you used to say. I remember feeling safe and loved, because that’s how the world feels when you’re little. Like everything is kinda perfect, yea some days it rains, and others there isn’t enough snow on the ground for a snowman. But usually the days seem pretty good.
I didn’t know that the last time I saw you would be the last time. And you were in the hospital a while before you died. Hospitals aren’t for little kids so I couldn’t see you and I knew you were sick because even though hospitals aren’t for little kids the stories are. But you had been sick before so I thought you would get better and be home soon. But you didn’t get better, you got sicker. And suddenly the world didn’t feel so safe. I felt less loved.
And I guess that stayed with me, for a really long time. Even now when I think of death I think of you and how much it stung to think I’ll never see you again.
Most of all I remember speaking at your funeral. I said you were in a better place and that God would take care of you because when you’re little that’s what you believe. But I didn’t really know what I was saying, and all the adults agreed with this little kid who was crying alot because I guess they thought it would make me feel loved and stuff. But it didn’t.
Now that I’m older, I miss you. I missed you then too, but I feel like that’s important to say because sometime things never really change from when we’re kids. We can’t run in the rain anymore and no one has the time for snowmen. The world is big and scary and almost always changing. You don’t feel loved like you used to and it’s not always safe. But you get used to it, build a shell around it.
But I remember what you looked like, thinning orange hair, big cheeks, glowing smile. And I remember what you used to say, you called me snuggle bunny. And make chocolate milk with chocolate syrup and hot fudge. And walking to the ice cream store. And I think of St. Ives lotion. And a fan with a tiger on it that’s made of wood. And I remember how it feels to feel loved and safe, and eventually, hopefully, that feeling will come back.
