Radio Edit

Indie Ink time.  This week's installment is a bit more mellow and somber, compared to my usual wit and sarcasm.  I hope you like it. 

When first challenged with this prompt, I was baffled.  At a BBQ with my friends the other night, I went so far as to say that I had no idea what to write about because I don’t like boys and I don’t like summer.  I gave it some thought, though, and mulled it over during down time at work, and this is what I came up with.

I can see you

I can see you, in my head, when I close my eyes.  I don’t see the real you anymore, though; I see the still-life, beautiful version of you, without any flaws or imperfections, or any sign that you once were sad and human.  I see you smiling a big, goofy grin that didn’t make many appearances in life, but they punctuate my memories of you.  You’re immortal now, in my eyes.

your brown skin shining in the sun

…always irritated me.  You turned so dark during the summer that people confused you with a latina woman. You AND Jacquie.  I always tried (and failed) to maintain a tan like yours, which is probably why I identified more with my Irish side.  I was jealous.  You could sit outside for twenty minutes and be sun kissed, where as I could sit outside for twenty minutes and need ice packs for my blistered legs.  Especially for your wedding to Roger, when I was wearing my strapless bride’s maid dress with racer back sun burn lines that you tried to “blend” with blush.

You’ve got your hair pulled back

… which was rare.  The only times I ever remember you pulling your hair back was when you used to use a scrunchy from the 80’s. 

Dad gave me the good hair, while you and Jacquie had the mousy brown hair that didn’t really do anything.  You tried everything, from cutting it short, growing it long,  bleaching it blonde, going red, and getting a horrible perm.  Your hair was always a hot mess.  I know you would admit this if you were here. 

You always liked my hair, even when it was a “rat’s nest”.  You’d always braid it if I wanted pigtails, and you’d straighten it for me when I’d get too frustrated to deal with it. 

and your sunglasses on

Sunglasses were never your thing, but when you did wear them, they had to be blue blockers.  God forbid you didn’t have them.  Any other type was just junk.  Maybe that’s why I can only settle for Aviators?  I never realized that it might have been from you. 

You would much rather rock the beret, the dickie under your shirts, and a pair of shorts over your leggings, because you needed pockets for your cigarettes and phone, no matter how many times I begged you to stop wearing them.  You were always you, even when faced with adversity.  You always remained true to yourself, a person who, as said by your husband, always marched to the beat of her own drummer.  I hope that I can be as strong as you were. 

I can tell you my love for you will still be strong

We had more than enough fights, arguments, and disagreements.  I regret that.  I know you would have forgiven me long before I would you.  I didn’t say I love you enough, and not because I didn’t, but because I felt to withhold it was punishment.  I love you.  You know how I know for sure?  Because even after all the bullshit, the nightmares that were both of our lives, I still ache to be able to call you and know that you’ll pick up on the other end… that I won’t be listening to “Don’t Stop Believin’” for eternity, and being mocked for doubting whether or not you’re still here.  I love you, and my love for you has grown stronger for every single day.

after the boys of summer have gone.

You would have enjoyed this, mom.  You loved abusing song lyrics into daily conversation.  I hope I’ve made you proud.  I hope, wherever you are, that you’re singing loudly, hopefully on key, and that they’ve got your microphone plugged in and fully charged. 

I love you.

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The prompt was given by Transplantedx3 ("the boys of summer..."), while I challenged Head Ant, who rocked it here.

Also, I feel that since I remembered to add the prompt this week, I should get a gold star... just sayin'.