Nana

Your nose wrinkles when you laugh.

When I think of you, that’s the image I see: You laughing. It’s
stuck in my brain because I’ve seen it many times. Lately, I
wish I saw it more often. It’s one of the many things that play
like home videos in my head when it comes to how much
I love you.

Do you remember the night we sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor,
with my dog between us, as we talked and laughed about
nothing, like nothing important or wrong had ever happened?
I remember that. It was years ago, but I still hold it as one of
the happiest moments of my life.

It’s up there with our near-silence,
lying on your bedroom floor,
listening to Nine Inch Nails,
building little pyramids of Kleenex beside our heads.

It’s near the night we sat on your couch in darkness,
watching music videos,
jumping up and ordering Adam to open his eyes,
and turn the steering wheel before they all die.
They died anyway.
We ended up laughing.

It doesn’t match the moment, though,
when I looked up during the rehearsal for our 8th grade graduation,
and you were smiling at me as you walked by.
Your smile has always made me the happiest.

You look beautiful with a Mohawk.
Actually, you’re just beautiful.
You’re the most beautiful girl I have ever known.
That’s why I’ve always been a little in love with you.

I sat in your basement once,
during your rehearsal,
and even though there was a band playing behind you,
even though there were so many other sounds,
all I could hear was you.
When you sing, the whole world stops to listen,
and my heart sings too.