They Ask Me What I Remember

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political memes and humor seeking refuge from yet another hurricane not even losing power then you begrudgingly listening to my newest piece <i>Irma, Oh Irma, You Flirt Oh You Tease!</i></p><p id="a461">I remember,</p><p id="2c93">your help and expertise especially technological connecting my printer time and time again many tried where you succeeded our walks on the beach always happy to add to my collection of pink scalloped shells and sea glass while nabbing a few of your own taking my first yoga class all your idea for PE but I got hooked and then together — Yin — we did our last</p><p id="a75e">We have a lifetime of memories but this is what I won’t remember:</p><p id="bb8d">when you turn 22 your college graduation your first real job and even perhaps standing beside your brother as Best Man at an eventual nuptial there are many things that I won’t remember.</p><p id="e641"><i>~My youngest son, Brandon, passed away just more than two years ago. He’d just turned 21. This piece, which I read at his memorial, was written within a week of his death. I’m astounded that I was able to pen this at that time. Another piece about Brandon in August which was curated:</i></p><div id="37be" class="link-block"> <a hr

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ef="https://readmedium.com/i-wasnt-there-a63aebae15b3"> <div> <div> <h2>I Wasn’t There</h2> <div><h3>I wasn’t there when you went off your meds</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*T8kRSGzYfb_70JCYp8rfdw.png)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="995d"><i>~I also published a haunting piece that Brandon wrote while in rehab:</i></p><div id="a5c4" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/senseless-agony-66f3ed45001f"> <div> <div> <h2>Senseless Agony</h2> <div><h3>My son OD’d a few years after writing this poem in rehab</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*w_v24Z3VyLRTHi8HTlV3kw.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="1bdf"><a href="undefined">Ann Marie Steele</a></p></article></body>

You and Bradshaw’s lists, like prepping for the Zombie Apocalypse

~Photo by author, layout from photos 2017–2019

Brandon I remember,

birthdays and parties, doctors all of your firsts walking, talking, school, playing in the snow Seattle’s forested backyard holding gigantic slugs then scrubbing your little hands raw to remove the slime, you didn’t mind

Little Gym and the earthquake my Brandy-baby you just wanted to play and play Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and don’t forget Pokémon Legos, trains, dress-up and bedtime rituals you and Bradshaw’s lists, like prepping for the Zombie Apocalypse

our Mother-Son lunches in Jax you of course always saving room for dessert followed by our walks through the antique mall in search of treasure giving you my cell passcode because you oh-so-did not want me to text and drive — at least when you were around

our date to the Trump rally a surprise the red Make America Great Again cap your off-color political memes and humor seeking refuge from yet another hurricane not even losing power then you begrudgingly listening to my newest piece Irma, Oh Irma, You Flirt Oh You Tease!

I remember,

your help and expertise especially technological connecting my printer time and time again many tried where you succeeded our walks on the beach always happy to add to my collection of pink scalloped shells and sea glass while nabbing a few of your own taking my first yoga class all your idea for PE but I got hooked and then together — Yin — we did our last

We have a lifetime of memories but this is what I won’t remember:

when you turn 22 your college graduation your first real job and even perhaps standing beside your brother as Best Man at an eventual nuptial there are many things that I won’t remember.

~My youngest son, Brandon, passed away just more than two years ago. He’d just turned 21. This piece, which I read at his memorial, was written within a week of his death. I’m astounded that I was able to pen this at that time. Another piece about Brandon in August which was curated:

~I also published a haunting piece that Brandon wrote while in rehab: