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Sometimes I wonder if you remember. . .
That time I stayed home sick with a sore throat. You felt bad for me, so when Grandma went to work, you snuck me some chocolate cake and root beer.
Or when you inspired me to be a doctor by teaching me about your diabetes. I still think of you, prickling your fingers at Grandma's kitchen table-whenever I get a shot.
Do you ever remember walking along that gravel road and letting me ramble on and on about school, parents, and everything else? Or looking at the clouds or wandering through those ditches looking for pop cans?
I wonder if you could find that old, happy memory of teaching me and my sister to count change from your big coin bucket, then using the change to go to Casey's and buy treats.
Could you still picture me and my sister sitting in your living room when Grandma would paint pictures on our fingernails? We would sit and admire the ladybugs, lightning bolts, and letters of our names. You always said we were the prettiest girls in the world. . . you don't say that anymore.
Do you remember when I was five and you taught me to ballroom dance? We were at a wedding reception and I stood on the toes of your good dress shoes, but you didn't mind. When the song was over you rewarded my effort with my very own can of pop. I bragged at recess for weeks. Guess what? I'm still dancing, thanks for the boost.
What about when you took us fishing because daddy couldn't take us? You helped me reel in that big catfish and we were so proud of that fish--my first ever catch.
Or what about all those times you kept helping me learn to drive the big 4-wheeler? We tore through your neighbor's fields. We carved tracks through the alfalfa and corn. That was when I learned what alfalfa was, not just a movie character.
Do you remember helping me put my pictures up on the refrigerator and telling me that I was a great artist?
I really wonder if you remember, I remember so much but I wish you could too. . .