I remember I would sit and watch you
Watched as you compared lottery tickets to each other.
The way your glasses lay on top of your nose
Lens as thick as honey.
I watched the motion of your dark fingers,
Running along the numbers on the tiny slip of of orange paper.

I remember looking out the window
And seeing you working on a new project.
Your determination to build the most difficult things.
Always teaching us new tips on how to fix objects.
When you would take us into the woods on the
Lawn mower and teach us about the different
Types of trees and plants.

I remember the way your blue and white plaided
Polo shirt, how it hung loosely at the bottom.
Your big work boots I used to put on and act like you.
Your laugh when I would trip over the shoe strings.
The twinkle in your light brown eyes.

I remember singing my lungs out in the car, and
You howling at us because we were so terrible.
Sitting in Dino’s laughing and eating pizza with the family.
Watching the waves crash onto the shore at Fortescue.
Taking pictures by the water to remember.

I remember rushing to the hospital to see you.
Laying in the hospital bed smiling, like always.
My dad telling me the news. The news that changed my entire life.
You were the first person in my family to have cancer.
I thought you’d get better, thought it would just go away
Like a bug being sprayed with bug spray.
But it never went away.

I remember coming over, and every weekend you
Were worse, loosing your soft black hair.
Walking in and seeing you laying there as stiff as a board,
While I’m trying to talk to you.

I remember the day my dad told me.
The day I was broken in two.
Now, when I walk into your house I see your empty couch.
The plaid shirts still hung in your closet.
Your scent echoes throughout the room.
It’s been two years, and yet I still haven’t gripped the thought
Of you being gone.