Over the clinking and clanking of dishes in the sink, dad calls out to mom in the other room.
Dad: Rosa, did you take the garbage out?
Mom (muffled): Yes.
Dad (not hearing her): Ro? Did you do it? Or do I have to do it? Tanya, ask your mother-
Me (cutting him off): Yes, Dad, she did it.
Mom (loudly now): He can’t hear me anymore! Yes, John! It’s done.
Dad: Ok, thanks honey. Can you pass me the dishcloth over there?
Then we got quiet, and I could hear the dryer tumbling in the other room.
The scent of fabric softener and dish soap wafting through the air.
My eyes were on the floor as I began sweeping under the same kitchen table as I did back when I was seven or twelve or nineteen…
And without warning I had a flashback to ‘teenager me’ sweeping in my childhood home.
I was wondering about my homework as I made my way around the table with the broom.
I was wondering what I would wear to school the next day.
I was trying to figure out how to steal the television away from my sister who was watching her pre-recorded soaps on the VHS.
But above all that I was remembering, I had this great rush of feeling.
I felt safe.
Like I belonged exactly where I was, with all the people I loved most.
When I tuned back in to real time after this brief little flash down memory lane, I felt lighter.
Ordinary moments always bring me the most solace.
And as I continued sweeping and listening to my parents’ chit chat, I made a mental note to flashback to this moment in twenty years or so, to remember just how perfect it was.
Exactly as it was.