Moments

It's sitting in a black leather chair
In a room full of pictures of tattooed women
While a guy with gages you could shoot hoops through
Pokes ink into your arm while you try not to cry
And wish desperately that your mother was there.

It's sitting back in a blue polyester chair
With a paper dress on over your clothes
And trying not to swallow too many times
While a doctor who looks like your parents' boss
Asks you about your hobbies, all the while
Digging in your neck with a needle,
Looking for cancer.

It's riding along in the comfort of a baby-blue upholstered bench seat
Of a 1993 silver Crown Victoria, wearing the sunglasses which belonged
To the old man who drove this car before you, the man whose obituary
You keep in the glove compartment, and he keeps you company while you drive
Along, in that quiet way ghosts have, and the whole thing reminds you of your favorite
Country song.

It's fidgeting in the hard wooden pew at the front of the church, uncomfortable
In a dress and already messing up your makeup with endless tears that you can't seem
To stop, because your favorite big brother, your only brother, is getting married today,
And he gave you a bracelet that matches the bride's necklace, and you could barely get through
That bit you were supposed to read because the two of them are absolutely perfect together, and
You realize the groom is crying just as hard as you are.

It's kneeling in the dirt in the front of your house, pushing that little blue cardboard box into the dirt and covering it back up, that box which holds the last ashes of the first pet you really ever had, the one who was secretly always your favorite, and who is resting now beside the ashes of his best friend, the one you never really knew the age of or where he'd come from, or how he'd come to be a part of the family.

It's leaning back in the scratchy, buttery-smelling seats of the movie theatre, watching a movie you've already seen twice but it makes you cry again, and you lean in closer and closer until he finally puts his arm around you and you both feel awful from the worst fries you've ever eaten, but it's okay because the movie's a musical and he actually wanted to go, and he smells like leather and wood smoke and just a little bit too much cologne.

It's moments
In loss
In life
In hope
In fear
In joy
Forever in our memory.