Heat coils around me as we step off the van. It starts down around my feet and spirals upward. Until it reaches my mouth and it takes my breath away.

And though I’ve chugged an ice-cold bottle of water right before our arrival I think,

“I’m thirsty.”

And that thought stays with me.

I look around.

My heart drops and so do my eyes. Which gives perfect view to the smallest, most precious treasure:

And all I can hear is my mom’s voice.

“No baby, put that down. You can’t have that.”

“Come here. Let’s wipe your face. You got all dirty after lunch.”

“No, you cannot play in the sandbox, I just gave you a bath.”

When the familiar collides with the absolute worst (and I mean the absolute worst) it’s all my mind can seem to do, to place the familiar back over it. To relive the time when I was a child. (more…)