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remembering: sounds

liz lamoreux

evening drink

her voice saying "come on" as she insists we walk around outside right after breakfast
the ritual of water running as soap is squirted and dishes slide, then knock together
flip flops clopping as we walk to the indoor pool and giggle when we see that again we have it all to ourselves
the guest room/her bedroom door creaking as she peeks to see if i am awake yet
the brush placed on the vanity when she finishes brushing her hair
laughter as she watches my brother and me slide down the backyard hill in our green sleds
her annoyed voice saying "honey" when i try to test her just a bit
the word "hello" just after my grandfather hands her the phone
the wooden spoon stiring sloppy joes on the stove

there is more...so much more...but i can't seem to find it tonight...the sense of seeing wants to take over the memories, but i want to remember the sounds...the sounds of almost thirty years of love and laughter and friendship and home...i want to remember how her voice said every word to me. but i can't. it seems lost tonight...but it was yesterday as i stood in the kitchen and began to measure flour and baking powder and nutmeg that i heard her voice. i heard her and i realized why i have stayed out of the kitchen these last few years. why i have come up with excuses to let jon cook most of the time or to get takeout. me, a person who actually likes cooking. it is because as soon as i start measuring things, i think about her. i think about calling her and asking her a question but then i have to remember that she isn't there. it happens almost everytime. i used to call with questions i didn't really have just to have an excuse to talk to her about cooking or house stuff as she was so proud to help me figure out my first home and cooking for my husband and all that wife stuff. and i wanted to learn from her and hoped she would feel good helping me as life seemed to be slipping away. i think though...i think i am going to try to spend a bit more time in the kitchen because maybe...maybe if i spend time measuring and turning the pages of cookbooks and filling the house with the smells of home i will remember the sounds...i will remember the sounds of her voice and it won't seem quite like it is all slipping away with each day that passes...maybe she will travel back to me for just a moment and i will remember.