My sister and I slept in my mom’s room that night.
We left the dining room light on.
The phone rang sometime around half past 2
And we knew.
In hushed voices my mom told me take care of my sister
(like that needed to be said)
and she went to wake dida up.
Sometimes I feel like I wasn’t me in those few days.
Well I was me but it was strange, more mechanical.
When his body was brought home for the last rites
I was told to stay in the kids’ room with my sister and cousin
The room door opened, my mother had come to get something.
13 year old me, very curious; peeked outside.
Heard someone wailing.
I was wearing black shorts and an off white top that day.
I insisted I wanted to go for the cremation.
Sorry this is such a disjointed piece. I was pretty much just thinking and typing and I usually don’t like these kinds of things cuz I don’t want to edit my thinking. I don’t know if that makes sense but yeah. Also, “All I Could Do” is the tittle of a song by Kimya Dawson and I was listening to it while writing and I think it fits perfectly!