Yearly Letter 6

Hi Mom,

 Earlier today, I was in a car with my friend and he got rear-ended. Everybody was fine. I'm in Florida, and the evening was warm.

During the day today I thought of when we went to Disney World 19 years ago. It was the first time I'd been on a plane, and you rode the "Its a Small World" ride two or three times. I remember you saying that you'd always wanted to go on it, and it took until you were 35 to have the chance.

We had to wait a long time for the cops to show up and take down all the information.

I got out of the car because I suddenly felt very, violently anxious. I started picking all the little flowering weeds, winding them into little bouquets. You always let the pretty weeds grow, as long as they didn't hurt any of the other plants. 

I cried pathetically, which doesn't make me proud, but I get so tired at the cruelness of this day. How it has softened its focus around the edges, but I am not immune to the barbs. I will never be immune to the memories.

You would scold me for my melancholy, but that's just it; I miss you. This is just one of those years where I am not struck with some creative beauty, but my life is very full. There's always a hollow where your name rings/wring my hands.

My beautiful mother, Claudette Lemieux.

Love always,

        Cat