This Night Last Year I Wore a Pink Dress

Last night while brushing my teeth I recalled how the same night last year I wore a pink dress. It was the night after Thunder Over Louisville. I enjoyed the music of a friend in the afternoon (I remember the songs), finished my paper, ate chicken cashew ding at Cafe Memosa, and took food over to a friend who gave me a souvenir from Korea. My to-go box leaked juice onto my dress, leaving  a nasty, brown stain near the rear, I fell down a couple steps on my way to Cefiore, and accidentally hit a friend in the face--all full of laughter and apologies. I remember these things and more with ease. The major circumstances (confidential) that surrounded that day changed my life. The minor details I've mentioned have stuck with me because of their proximity to the dramatic. As I continued brushing my teeth, I wondered, as I am in the midst of ongoing family trial with a grim prognosis, what will stick with me after the traumatic? What moments will be etched on my mind, particularly the ones with my dad? How will my life change? We'll see. I think the deepest valleys are yet to come. But I do know this: It will be good. Not pleasant, but good. (See previous post for clarification.)