(Don’t) Forget to Remember Me

Do you remember how dependent I was upon you?
Do you remember how I couldn’t sleep unless I was in your bed, being your Big Spoon?

Every night.

Do you remember sweeping my hair back and drying my tears?
Do you remember reassuring me that it wasn’t my fault, the things he did?

To all of us.

Do you remember telling me you’d always be here?
Do you remember saying you’d never abandon me, because you loved me?

For a time.

Do you remember helping me learn how to read before kindergarten?
Do you remember telling me how proud you were that I could read at your level by second grade?

And that you were jealous.

Do you remember brushing my long hair?
Do you remember telling me how beautiful the curls were?

Then ripping through them.

Do you remember laughing when I tried to playfully coax you from your depression?
Do you remember telling me I would make a great comedian someday?

But not today.

Do you remember when I had a nightmare you died, so I called you sobbing in the middle of the night?
Do you remember telling me that you loved my big heart of gold, and you’d never?

Go away.

Do you remember when I screamed at him, to get off of you?
Do you remember how hard I tried to take care of you?

Of all of us.

Do you remember telling me to get over it?
Do you remember telling me I should forgive him and be by his side?

No matter what.

Do you remember promising me a special gift like you’d given the others?
Do you remember crocheting half of it and bringing it to me in a garbage bag?

Forever unfinished.

Do you remember the big green plastic cup?
Do you remember drinking until your eyes were glassy and your speech slurred?

Only water.

Do you remember all the sleepless nights?
Do you remember all the men from the Internet?

Unraveled.

Do you remember the intervention?
Do you remember saying nothing was wrong, but you’d never speak to us again?

How dare we care.

Do you remember being the only one at the wedding?
Do you remember having a tantrum and making it all about you?

Cried all night.

Do you remember telling me I wasn’t praying hard enough?
Do you remember telling me I was being punished for something?

Barren.

Do you remember telling me my vocabulary was too high?
Do you remember saying it was disrespectful to ever ask why?

Sheep.

Do you remember when I cried and begged you to respect me?
Do you remember when I cried and begged for you to come to me to talk?

Instead of gossiping.

Do you remember how I begged for you to love me?
Do you remember how much it hurt when I always had to be the one?

To call first.

Do you remember going away?
Do you remember where I am?

Lost.

Do you remember who you are?
Do you remember who I am?

Mother Daughter.

Did you forget to remember?
Did you remember to forget?

Me.

Do you know how much I hate it?
Do you know how long I spend sobbing in bed, every year?

Mother’s Day.

I hope I remember to forget.

You.

As easily as you’ve forgotten to remember.

Me.