Flash in the Pan
A Quarterly Posting at Tiny Lights
by Cathy Bell
I remember one day while living with my dad and step-mother, their saying, "Your mom is going to come get you for a visit today." My brother and I were barely three and five years old, dressed up in our best outfits and happily bouncing around in anticipation. It had been a very long time since we'd seen our mom. We waited for our mother out in the drive-way, leaning against the bumper of the Ford Pinto, listening to kids play down the block, but that soon got boring. Cartoons called us gently away from the spring day and we moved inside the house to lie on the floor in front of the TV, heads propped in our hands, entangled in Scooby Doo.
Eventually, a young, auburn-headed woman came upstairs and she and my dad talked in the hallway right behind us. I peeked over my shoulder a couple times, casually wondering who that lady was, but being drawn back to the television, nonetheless. She signed some papers and they looked very business-like. I don't think my baby brother paid any attention at all. Then, like a movie scene I've played back in my mind many times, she knelt on the floor, opened her arms and began to cry, saying "Come to your mommy." I knew then she must be my mom, but I didn't remember her yet. My brother and I tentatively approached her and hugged her. Then I cried, too, because in that moment I hugged her and smelled her, I remembered her.
Cathy Bell (Denver, CO) enjoys writing personal essays and has several small publications in journals, online lssarchives.homestead.com/NUMBERONE.html and a six word memoir in It All Changed in an Instant: More Six-Word Memoirs. Cathy works at the University of Colorado Denver, Anschutz Medical Campus and holds a master's degree in Health Psychology.
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