I still remember the smell of bug spray on my arms and legs as you dragged me and my sister in the red wagon. You were taking us to see fireworks, the early July air clinging to my tanned skin. I could hear the voices of the crowd from over a block away and began to feel a knot in my stomach. You turned around to look at me and blew me a kiss, as you knew crowds overwhelmed me. I would do anything to relive this moment with you.

I still remember the sound of laughter coming from the chicken coop as you and my sister were chasing the tiny chicks. I watched from behind the gate as I was too scared to go in, but you grabbed my hand and told me not to worry. Then I started to chase them too, even picking one up and rubbing its fuzzy frame against my cheeks. You smiled at me and started doing the same. I would do anything to relive this moment with you.

I still remember the time you played dominos with me in the living room as your Pomeranian, Rosita, was fast asleep on your lap. They had characters from Dora on each side, which is why I loved them so much. You placed the cold pieces on the brown marbled coffee table as Portuguese game shows played on the TV. You let me win. You made that “oh” sound that never failed to make me laugh. Then you jumbled the pieces and set them back up to play another round. I would do anything to relive this moment with you. 

I still remember the smell of fresh chicken and vegetable soup emitting from the kitchen when I got home from my father's house. I ran into your arms and giggled. You brought me over to the pot of soup and let me taste a spoonful before dinner. Then you kissed my cheek and put me back down. I would do anything to relive this moment with you. 

I still remember the time we got Chinese take-out when my mom was busy at work. You set up plates and utensils on the glass table outside and served me first. I watched you move around the patio and did not pick up my fork until you sat down; just like you taught me to. In that moment, the sound of cicadas and grasshoppers was better than any conversation. I would do anything to relive this moment with you. 

I still remember the daily drives from school with Portuguese music emanating softly from the radio; the summer afternoons we watered the plump vegetables in your garden as you taught us to always get your food from the most natural sources; the countless times I cried in your arms as you hummed in my ear to soothe me; and the days I couldn’t wait for you to pick me up so I could tell you all the crazy things that happened to me for the small amount of time that you were gone. 

I want to relive my entire life just to do it all with you one more time, and I wish I could have realized how important you were before we grew up, moved on, and became strangers.