i remember waking up and not being able to see
i remember crying
i remember my mother finding me
i remember her sitting on the bathroom floor, me in her lap
i remember how much bigger than me she used to be
i remember her taking a damp paper towel and pressing it against my eyes
i remember crying harder
i remember whatever had crusted over my eyelids stinging
i remember her saying “shh, it’s all right,”
i remember her saying “you’ve been so brave, i’m almost done, ’kay?”
i remember how bright the bathroom lights looked when i could see them again
i remember my mother wiping the tears off my cheeks
i remember thinking the bits of gunk that still clung to my eyelashes looked like stars