- Pulling out from a blind spot on Lower Wacker the other night and a speeding Saab nearly banking into the wall because of me.
- Walking to work on Pearson near the Lake one gorgeous May morning when an old woman walking a few feet ahead of me dressed in an ankle length black wool coat and pumps tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and fell nose first into the cement.
- The moment Oscar took his last breath as the vet administered the second shot.
- After months of minimal communication and weeks of nourishment from a feeding tube, my dad’s smile in recognition of taste during a procedure where they placed orange sherbet on his tongue.
- The video of a baby elephant and its mother in Kenya running toward each other when the baby is freed from a well
- Though they didn’t tell me, knowing that when my parents took Debbie to be boarded while they were going on a trip, it would be the last time I’d see her. I told them I’d walk her to the corner where they could pick her up and I’d walk back home where the baby sitter waited. (No my parent's werent like that. Neither of my siblings were boarded. Debbie was the dog.)
- Taking a spill with my niece on the back of the bike in her carrier.
- My mother’s painted finger nails and the smell of Aphrodisia and cigarettes as she readied to go out for dinner with my dad.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Can’t get this outa my head:
Labels:
dog,
Mary Beth Longe,
Memoir,
memories,
mind
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I know. Some memories are seared into our brain as the taste of sweet, bitter and bittersweet. Our cat Art took his last breath yesterday with the second shot. I can see the scene the day he walked into my yard nearly twenty years ago and I will never forget the day we took him to the vet for the final time. I want to remember the time in between more. These other memories float.
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