Perfectly Imperfect Me

We spent our Friday nights dancing in my kitchen.

You liked country, I liked pop, but you always let me choose.

I would be wearing a big sweatshirt and my blue fuzzy socks.

A spatula was my microphone, and I never could get the tune right.

But you didn’t care because things were perfect then.

I would make fried ham and pancakes, my favorite night indulgence.

You would always laugh, as I hogged the chocolate chip pancakes.

Afterwards, while washing dishes, just a few minutes till you had to go home, you would always say, “Promise me that you will always dance in those socks every Friday night.”

I always said yes.

But what I should have said was,”Promise me you will always be there.”

Because you were not.

So when I swing my siblings around, listening to their favorite Disney music every Friday night, promise me that you never forgot.

Never forgot the girl who danced in her blue fuzzy socks, listening to pop music.

Because by golly,

I have yet to forget you.