We’ve been talking about moving out of the apartment. There’s no longer a need for a family home. Arianna moves forward in Miami. James traces his steps in Montreal.
I listen to Weird Goodbyes by the Bleachers and think about the times I have reminded myself to remember before it is gone. The first time I was at summer away camp for the first time. Chateaguay. I remember very little from that summer but this one moment. We are boarding the bus, taking in the field for the last time. The counselor says to take a mental snapshot, we won’t see this until next summer. I never did see it again but in my memory. The field is very green. The Bleachers: Memorize the bath water, memorize the air; there’ll come a time I want to know I was here.
I spent our last months in this frame of mind. We drove through the city, trying to outrun the heat. The goodbye. I was afraid to speak. To touch his arm even. Remember this sign, remember this street, this home, this feeling. There were forty days on the calendar, then ten, then the day I packed my bags and left. I flew over ten states, constantly aware of the distance growing between us. But I didn’t remember it at all.
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