i remember being picked up from the airport, it was back in the day when visitors could come all the way to the gate to greet everyone coming off of the plane. my grandmother was wearing a long skirt, my grandfather his khakis and sweater. they looked happy to see us but they felt like strangers, their smell was unfamiliar as her skirt brushed against my nose. this is your family, this is your life, these are people you trust. i don’t ever remember being touched, im sure i was hugged but there was a distance in both of them that felt confusing to me. i wanted to express this to my mom, to ask her questions, but the questions didn’t form into anything tangible until it was too late. these two people made you? this person made you meals, everyday? how did you become a person that i know? do you love them?

i am my mom more than she is her mom.

when you die you start to shrink.