Potato Salad Memories

I spoon the last of my moms potato salad onto a plate for lunch and a text comes in from my brother. He says he had a great time and his sunburn is just about gone. I smile. I slice apples for the kids and catch a glimpse of the ice chest just outside the door. "must remember to take that to the garage." I walk past the guest room, the bed still needing to be made, air mattress to be folded and put away. Later maybe. It's warm on the patio, hot even and all I want to do is sit in the warm sun and close my eyes. I do. JQ quickly joins me, squeezing his little body next to mine in the chair. We say nothing. I smell his hair and rub my feet together. Stella plays on her bike a few feet away. A piece of purple crepe paper confetti stuck to the front tire. Her legs too short to use the pedals she pushes herself along chatting and singing to herself. Joaquin is up and on his bike too. They exchange chatter, brother and sister and I smile because I can't understand what they are saying. They laugh and head off together. The sun burns my shoulders and the birds sing. The water from the fountain seems loud against the quiet in the yard. I try and picture all the faces and sounds that filled this space just a few days before and it seems unreal. Like a dream. Then the quiet is gone. Stella at my side requesting help with her shoes and I am up.
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