memory

i can't sleep. the heat is creeping in to announce the pending arrival of summer. i hate the heat. i am laying here. tossing and turning. thinking. remembering.

i am 7 years old. it is easter. i am scared and saucy. this is not uncommon. i am wearing my favorite shirt. a button down shirt, maybe some sort of silk, it is a very busy pattern. i am wearing a blazer. i have just received a card with five dollars, from an aunt or a neighbor. my mother is sad. my mother is always sad. i was going to make her happy. two blocks away from our apartment there is a photo shop. i used to go in there alot. i used to go into a lot of the local businesses a lot. nobody ever gave me the crossing the street lesson. i just knew how to get away. i walked the two blocks. i said hello to my old familiar friend, the photo shop owner, and asked what he could help me get with my five dollars to make my mother smile. they had a cut out of marilyn monroe, i always said hi to her too. he suggested making a picture magnet. i said, only if marilyn could be in it. he took the picture. a polaroid. a magnet was made. momma smiled. i saved the day.

it's easter again. 3 years later. mom is sad. still sad. times are hard. times are always hard. i am sent to get my sister something to wear on easter morning before i help my mother make baskets out of whatever is left in the local general store. i go to fifth avenue, the main shopping block, filled with the smell of cinnamon sticks and the sound of chicano music. always crowded. i went to the kid's clothing store. i remember that my sister loves to wear her construction style boots. and i remember that in movies fun ladies wore those kinds of boots with floral dresses. it is 1995. i buy her a denim/floral dress and white leggings. ten dollars. five dollars under budget, which will make mom happy. i saved the day again.

i have to jot these down. i am afraid to lose them.