I grew up here.
It’s not an exact replica.
But if any of my siblings or either of my parents saw it,
They would know it.
My parents had eight of us.
This isn’t even close to an accurate depiction of us.
But if any of us saw this…
We know it’s us.
Mom would say “don’t take my picture damnit”.
Every. Single. Time. a camera was produced.
And though I can’t draw it in 3-D,
We all know this is what mom looks like.
Dad had a peculiar way of listening to music.
And any of my siblings can tell you that right there dad would lay.
Regardless of what else was going on in the house.
Maybe it was Johnny Cash or The Kingston Trio.
But this scene is part of our files.
And every 4th of July he gave us our own fireworks.
And no better dinner was had,
Then the pancake dinners by mom.
And the top of the stairs with the glass door.
It amazes me still that I never remember one single pane of glass being broken.
Considering how much thumping we did on one another.
And even though the details aren’t specific and clear.
And the visions are not perfectly reflected here.
When there are things in common that are treasured and loved.
We can recognize them in one another’s memories.