i’m trying to remember

I’m trying to remember the last normal day. What was the weather like? What did I do? I’m trying to remember the last normal hour, if I was in the park or scrolling through Instagram, or asleep.

I am trying to remember the last person I touched – I know I gave my mom a hug on the 17th of February. Was that the last time? Did I shake hands with anyone at work? Brush against fingertips while taking a bag from a store teller? Maybe. Maybe not. But I remember my last hug was the 17th of February.

I’m trying to remember not feeling afraid. The last moment I was certain and clear and unencumbered.

Some trauma hits you like a fireball – scorching your lifeline with an indelible mark. The before and the after – so deep even your DNA knows. But others creep in slowly, like a suggestion of a whisper.  Like the fog coming in on little cat feet. And then it’s just always been there, and you can’t remember the last moment when you were free. You can’t remember the last moment when you were the before.

I’m trying to remember my future. What will the weather be like? What will I do?
What will we do?