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Writer's pictureMegan

Little Moments

I walked the dog today. It's Saturday today, and my kids aren't home, so I walked him a little extra long. We walked across Silver Lake Road past the McDonald's down Innsbruck drive. And as we walked I remembered. I remembered a day, long ago now. I don't remember all of the details, I can't remember if Mark and I were just friends at the time or if we had become officially a couple. But, he called me one morning. He knew I didn't start work until 9:30, and wanted to know if I would bring him an egg sandwich and a coffee. I can't remember why I agreed to do this, because most days I barely even have time to eat for myself. But I did, and the property Mark was at that morning was down Innsbruck Drive. It wasn't one of his typical properties and neither of us lived in the area at that time. He was painting at a senior community by himself that day and was apparently hungry, or perhaps he just wanted to see me. I must have wanted to see him too, so I made him an egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich and put it on a bagel. I stopped at that McDonald's to get his coffee, 4 creams, and 4 sugars (I know, very sweet), and I met him outside. As I stood there at the back of his All Kind van, he took the sandwich and coffee and unloaded the rest of what he needed from the back. It must have been parked on a bit of a hill because then the van door swung shut and whacked me in the back of my head. It surprised me and stung immediately, and he quickly put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me into his chest. I complained about how I was so nice to bring him food and I got hit in the head for it. He promised to make it up to me.

Sometimes things happen to this day that feel like a whack in the back of the head, things that hurt, or surprise me. How nice it would be to feel Mark's hand on the back of my head and have him pull me in against him, just to hold me for a moment, a moment of comfort. See when you lose your person you lose them, but you lose all of those little comforts, the moments that create those tiny bits of memory that store in your brain not because they were important but just because they were good. Funny how now I live just a mile or so from where that memory, forever stored in my mind, was made in the first place.

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