Day 8

Monday, September 8, 2025

Gold Coast

My mom used to talk about the last time

She picked us up as little kids

Or the last time she pushed us on a swing

Or the last time she lifted us from the seat in the grocery cart.

Now I wonder

When was the last time I hugged her

Or the last time we sang in the car together

Or the last time we watched our favorite movies?

Sometimes I’m still mad at her

For the things she did when she was here

Sometimes I’m just mad

That she’s not around

And all I’m left with

Are half memories of the last times.