Which good memories are better — the recent and vivid ones, or those that time has covered in a sweet haze?
Six months ago while my mom was still 99 I visited with her.
On the stand next to her chair was a picture of her entire school when she was in the first grade. It was grades 1st t0 8th. There were approximately 75 students. She had the names of at least 3/4 of the students written above them. The picture was taken in 1920.
“Wow, Mom,” I said, “that’s incredible how you remember all those people.”
I scanned the photo and saw a boy who looked as though he might have been a couple years ahead of mom. He had a goofy smile on his face.
“Whose this kid? I don’t know how you could ever forget him.” I said. “He looks like a real character.”
Mom pursed her lips together. “That’s Larry Patterson.”
“Why didn’t you write his name?”
“That little b*****d pissed on me,” she said vengefully, “and I’m not about to write his name.”
“How did that happen?” I asked.
“He was standing on a limb in a tree and called me over,” Mom said. “And when I looked up, he flipped it out and let it go – little b******d.”
“Wow, Mom, you really hold a grudge,” I said.
“Damn right, I do.”
Here is a link to the final episode of my short story for the day is the day, Romancing Ted.