You loved cotton candy flavored everything.
All fruity things really.
You always drank the grossest,
most sugary, ridiculous drinks.
And you would always want me to try a sip
Even though I hated every single one.
You didn’t eat your pizza crusts.
And would live off steak and potatoes.
You liked Thai food.
But only from Thai Pepper.
And Mexican food.
But only from El Portal.
And crab legs.
Especially at Christmas time.
You loved the Earth.
The dirt, the mud, the rain. And trees.
You could identify almost all trees.
Willows were your favorite.
And you loved a peach tree you planted. You were very proud of it.
I don’t think I’ve had a better peach.
I gave you healing crystals-
amethyst, jade, quartz...
all of them.
And no one would know how much you loved them
But you loved them.
You said you wanted to be a geologist.
I told you to be a firefighter.
And you did this thing...
where you spread your arms open while driving and listening to metal.
I’ll never be able to describe
how enduring it was-
You would open your giant wingspan
You would never fully scream the lyrics
You would just mimic it loosely,
more breath than vocal,
a big “o” shape to your mouth.
Followed by that smile.
that smile.
You didn’t like sunglasses.
I mean you wore them sometimes.
But when you took me to the mountains for the first time-
We were driving into the sunset, and
You said,
“Take your sunglasses off,
It’s more beautiful in the light”
I took them off.
And I kept them off the rest of the trip.
Not wanting to miss a minute of your magnificence.
Just trying to make sense of this human life and let my stories breath outside of my body.