2005-04-05 - 7:15 p.m.
i lay real still and try to conjure thoughts of her. clear visions of her. i know she was the first woman in my life. yes, my mother was there, but unavailable. my sister stepped in, took the majority of the task of raising me. causing confusion in the neighborhood over who my mother really was. they all though it was some kind of family secret, a way to cover our family shame. the age gap, far enough to validate for them that they must be right. however, she was my sister. and i do remember adoring her. wanting to be near her. wanting to be like her, or be her if i could.
i lay real still and try to remeber her before the leaving. remember something other than the absence of her. other than the longing. i tried to remember her laugh. her voice. her saying something kind, or endearing. an interaction. a single moment of connection. i remembered situations where i know she was there. a birthday party were she cooked enchiladas, a date where i was the third wheel, wanting to kill a boyfriend she had who made her cry and broke my video game. but not really her.
i lay real still and try to see her in real life. not the photos my mom still has up in the family photo frames. i try to remember how i felt being near her. try to remember something before the emptiness left behind once her bedroom had been changed into the den and her clothes were no longer hanging in the closet.
i lay real still and try to remember.
but i don't.
