I remember hating everything about school, but loving to learn.
I remember catching water skippers in the ditch by my house. I kept them in a small bucket until it was time to go home.
I remember my great-grandmother’s missing finger, and the way I always forgot that it wasn’t there.
I remember feeling uncomfortable and lost the first time I saw a man cry. Now I wish men cried more often.
I remember watching the giant wave take out the small strip of beach and wondering how it felt to drown.
I remember when I could fill my gas tank with my (almost non-existent) weekly tips from my high school job.
I remember when we were the only Mormon family I knew who came from a broken home. Soon we were just from a broken home.
I remember being afraid to hold my tiniest twin, because I was so afraid that he would shatter. He ended up being sturdier than me.
I remember running through the sprinklers in my front yard and then laying on the hot cement until I felt brave enough to do it again.
I remember being scared to marry my husband because I tend to run away from men I love. It turns out that he would run after me.