This Weird Girl

I’m almost 50, and short-term memories are disappearing. But my long-term memory is exceptionally good, though losing their color a bit. I’m going to start jotting them down as they come to mind.

I’m in an older vehicle right now that still has manual rolling windows and small cup holders. I stuck my giant iced coffee in the cup holder, and it barely fits. But then I had a flashback memory, from the smell, and the dust,  and the drips on the console, which made me remember sitting in the car with my dad all through my childhood. I see cold mornings in the winter in Upstate New York, the fog of our breath, the rustle of our coats, and the smell of old sweat on our cheap, knitted winter hats. We’d go to a  Stewart’s near our house and he’d get a coffee.

I can still see, smell, and feel the environment of those car rides with Dad’s cup of coffee. I treasure every moment I spend with my dad.