Dog Food

I owed you $60 when you died. You were watching our dogs while we were in Italy, and I forgot to order another bag of dog food before we left. I remembered this on the way to the airport. When I called to say goodbye like I always do before getting on a flight, I let you know the dog food was running low. You said, “No worries, I will order more.” I felt bad for forgetting something so stupid and promised I would pay you back once we returned. You again said, “No problem, they are family, don’t pay me back.” I hate owing people money. But what I owed to you could never be paid back.

All the ponytails you re-did over and over because I didn’t like “the bumps,” when you would adjust my socks before school because the seam bothered my tiny toes, the countless times you would leave work to bring me my lunch when I forgot it in high school, the time you picked me up drunk from a party late as hell with no questions asked because I was scared and you always said you would anyway… when you walked the entire strip of Las Vegas back to our hotel because jet lag got the best of me, the various spiders you rescued me from over the years because I was terrified of them…

You moved me from Raleigh to Chapel Hill to New York back to Raleigh and then to Charlotte. You bought my wedding dress after you helped pick it out just like you did with my prom dresses, paid for my entire college tuition, and stuck your neck out for me to try to get me a job at Cisco, which I was ungrateful for. You taught me how to drive a stick shift, helped me open my first bank account and purchase my first car. You drove all the way to Wilmington with me to buy me that first car, then saved me so many times on the side of the road because that car was a piece of shit and you knew it, but you let me get it anyway. That is still my favorite car I’ve ever owned.

I owed you so much more than $60.