Reminiscence
One
I remember this bright-eyed girl. One whose hair was still curly and skin was still soft and young; darkened by the many hours spent outside. The young, arrogant, little girl who wasn't afraid to explore unknown places; the world still seeming new; everything within her sight an inspiration.
The girl who would dream endlessly; her imagination taking her to worlds far from her own. Dreams of someday performing on a stage, twirling and singing to the sounds of her favorite songs.
The girl who insisted on performing the tasks that others knew she couldn't do, but her optimism kept her willing to try.
The girl who loved nothing more than time with her family. Those summer nights when her mother would crawl into bed with her and together they would fall asleep. When her father would carefully place her delicate, tiny feet upon his and together they would walk as one.
The girl who wanted to walk to the park to visit the familiarities of the slide and the swings; to listen to the bay's water rise upon the seaweed-covered shore; collecting rocks all the while, and then getting too tired to walk back home.
I remember this girl, though it seems she can't be found. Only in pictures and in the stories told by her family members. Though this girl is still around, the spirit of the one I remember has faded away.
The girl who would dream endlessly; her imagination taking her to worlds far from her own. Dreams of someday performing on a stage, twirling and singing to the sounds of her favorite songs.
The girl who insisted on performing the tasks that others knew she couldn't do, but her optimism kept her willing to try.
The girl who loved nothing more than time with her family. Those summer nights when her mother would crawl into bed with her and together they would fall asleep. When her father would carefully place her delicate, tiny feet upon his and together they would walk as one.
The girl who wanted to walk to the park to visit the familiarities of the slide and the swings; to listen to the bay's water rise upon the seaweed-covered shore; collecting rocks all the while, and then getting too tired to walk back home.
I remember this girl, though it seems she can't be found. Only in pictures and in the stories told by her family members. Though this girl is still around, the spirit of the one I remember has faded away.