It was probably the summer of ’97.

There was this girl I liked.

She had red hair, blue eyes, and she was beautiful.

And she was different.

Not like anyone I had ever met before.

 

I remember we were at a bar.

She was sitting on the barstool, I was standing.

We were talking.

At some point in our exchange of nervously structured sentences, I must have told her that I really liked her.

Then she must have said something back to the effect of “I really like you too.”

Because then I remember laughing awkwardly and saying out loud back to her, “someday you may not like me, someday you may change your mind.”

Why would I say such a thing?

Why didn’t I just go on and accept the moment we were having?

Because I knew.

I knew the truth.

The truth about me no one ever talks about.

I am just like my mother.

 

Fast forward twenty-four years.

It’s the summer of ’21.

Two thousand twenty-one.

She is blonde now.

And of course, her eyes are still blue.

She is still very beautiful.

She is still not like anyone I have ever met before.

And we are married now.

 

I am standing far out on the dock fishing.

She is kneeling down digging in the garden up closer to the house.

My mother is standing behind her as works on her knees digging with the hand tool.

And my mother is questioning what and how she is doing it.

After a time of this, she stands up.

“UUUUGGGGHHHHH,” she yells out loud so I can hear her from the dock.

“CURT! YOU ARE JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHERRRRR!”…holding the “ER” sound for a while.

“WOOOOGGGGHHH!”

 

There on the dock, I turned towards the loud voice.

I managed a faint smile as in my mind I returned to that barroom twenty-four years ago.

Out loud I said to myself.

“I told you.”

“I tried to warn you.”

 

I still really like her.

I think she still really likes me though sometimes I am not so sure why.

I am, just like my mother.

And the nice thing is…

She is just like her mother too.

And she loves my mother.

And I love her mother too.

And since I am just like my mother,

She must love me too.

 

 

Postscript:

For my birthday, my kids got me a subscription to this writing prompt called Storyworth that on a weekly basis sends me a topic to write about and I think at the end of the year compiles the writings in a book, but they also thought it might provide me some “Musings” material.  The topics are questions like “Have you ever won anything,” “did you have a favorite teacher in middle school,” or “what is your idea of perfect happiness.”  Last week the challenge was “Are you more like your father or your mother? In what ways.”  This is my first public post from those weekly writings.