Memory, all alone in the moonlight

"Memories are just a reminder of how good things used to be."

So, Aaron got me to thinking about memories. And I was pondering things. One specific memory actually popped into my head. It was that day that I was helping Kara babysit for those 6 or so boys. The whole day was insane, between me helping all the boys stop crying and getting them to behave I was about ready to scream. Infact I yelled at them, it worked though. But, the one particular part, aside from them coming to me to stop crying....was this moment. I helped this one kid to get into bed, and he was feeling sick and he missed him mom and he was sad. So, I told him "here, I'll read you a bed time story. Would you like that?" and he picked one out and I sat there and read it to him. Then I said "Okay, time to go to sleep." and he said "Would you stay here till I fall asleep?" Apparently his mom does that when he's sick. So I did. I don't know why, but I felt like at that moment I thought "You know, I think I really would love to have a kid. For these moments." After I left his room the others ran up to me to read to them. Hah, none of them wanted Kara to read to them. Dont know why. But, the reason that that moment made me think about having a kid when I'm older, is because it actually made me think that I would be a good mother.

Going back farther, I start to remember the days when I stayed at my dads for a whole summer because I lived in Florida. I remember all the fun times I had there. In the summer I'd go eat watermelon and swim in my Aunts pool (well, Annes sister...kinda my aunt) and play random games in the backyard with my cousins. I also remember the days when I'd go outside while my dad was watering the lawn, so I could play with our dog, and he'd spray me with the hose, and I'd run around the house to the other side to try to shut the water off. And it was like a game hah. That was the best dog I've ever known. His name was Deo. He was a doberman, he used to sit on the couch. Literally. And the two cats I would carry around in a shoe box when they were tiny, and the one who would do flips on command. The other who ate the butter off the table. They were twins.

I used to go visit my grandmother everyday almost. Even every weekend while I lived in New York. I'd hang around with my little cousins who adored me. They followed me everywhere. I even remember seeing my little cousin Ian in the hospital when he was born. He was so tiny. And I remember going into my great grandmothers house. Id always sneak up on her and surprise her. I got really good at it, although, I think she knew I was there, she just liked to pretend, to humor me. I'd always watch her paint. She was an artist. Id sit on the floor and try to put a puzzle she had together. It had the 50 states, but it was missing a couple. I didn't care.

I also remember going berry picking in the field we had there. And helping pick vegetables. Riding around the golf cart. Hah, me getting thrown off the golf cart by my Uncle Mike.

Then I remember the day I was at my dads house. He called me downstairs, and I saw him on the couch. He looked really sad and he had a painting in his hand. My great grandmother had died apparently. I could tell he was trying to be strong and not cry or anything. He wasnt doing a very good job of it. He gave me the painting, apparently she had painted a picture of me picking lilacs in the garden outside...I cried. I cried for a long time. My dad did too. We just kind of sat there for the longest time crying. And then I went upstairs and cried some more. I think that I cried a lot after that. I kept thinking of her for months after she had died. I had went back to her house with my dad. I took some of the stuffed animals from her house. That kind of stuff. We have stuff she drew/painted in the house. I cried almost every night for possibly a year. I would just start to think about her, and how much I missed her, and all the times I spent and how I didnt even get to say goodbye...and it just killed me inside. It still kills me. I'm crying while I write this and it hurts even though it happened so long ago. I can remember the day so clearly and perfectly. I loved her so much and for her to just be gone... Nobody every really talked to me about it after. I've never even told anyone that I cried for so long after it happened.

I wont get into writing about the Steve situation. I think that may be best. If I write it, things wont go much better for me.

Enough remembering for tonight. I've already revealed more than I've ever told another soul before. Theres homework to do and no more tears need to be shed.