Tiny Memories

I woke up today and, perhaps because of some forgotten dream, I recalled this memory of a spring/summer day at home with my family. Not that what we did that day was especially memorable (I don’t know what it was), but I do know that at some point it started raining suddenly and furiously, and after a moment’s pause, my dad yelled “SHIT, THE WINDOWS” and we all scattered through the house, trying to crank close our old windows as the rain came in sideways, and Mom was screaming and I was laughing and I KNOW Haley had trouble with hers because if you ever cranked it out too far it would get caught and you had to take the screen out to push the mechanism back in place.

Memories like that are my favourite, and I’d love to never lose them. Some of them are also muscle memory; the way I run up the stairs, with a little crow hop to start; the door handle that only opens when you twist it to the left (I think they might have fixed that one, but I’ll probably never know); where all the lightswitches are in the dark.

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