what we remember

The brain is a sieve with holes of curious size,

Where facts and figures tumble, telling little lies.

We lose the dates of treaties something algebra’s dread might, But we cling to tales of laughter, burning ever bright.

Now, dearest,

Don’t forget Mimi’s kitchen, smelling of sweet pepper soup.

Always remember how she'd listen, even when we whined the most?

She'd pour weak tea, and nod, a sage in floral dress, While our grand dramas crumbled, into sweet, soft mess.

Or Ibrahim, with his bad jokes, a pun-slinging fiend, Who showed up at the hospital, when hope had seemed to end.

He didn't bring grand speeches, no flowers, nothing grand, Just a rubber chicken, clutched tight in his hand.

We may forget the petty squabbles, the words we shouldn't say, the times we judged too harshly, and pushed good folks away.

But always remember to hold onto the moments, when hearts were intertwined, the silent, steady presence, a gentle, loving kind.

For life is a rumpled picnic, where ants steal all the cake, and memories are fireflies, that twinkle for our sake.

So let us choose the bright ones, the moments pure and true, the times a friend held space for us, like only they could do.

Let's not recall the failings, the flaws we all possess, but how they showed up bravely, in life's chaotic mess.

For in the end, dear readers, when shadows start to creep, It's kindness we remember, the promises we keep.

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Thanks for reading. I hope you’re well.