Kind Like Katey

It’s funny how memories work.

There are things I desperately try to remember about Katey, and sometimes I just can’t. I can sit there and search my brain for a specific moment and get absolutely nothing.

Then I’ll be driving down the road on some random day, not even thinking about her, and suddenly there she is.

That happened to me recently.

I remembered the two of us driving somewhere together. I couldn’t tell you where we were going, but knowing us, we were probably going shopping.

Katey and I both loved Katy Perry, and at some point she looked at me and said, “You have GOT to hear this song.”

Then she put on “Peacock.”

If you’ve never heard it, I’ll just tell you this: it did not take me very long to figure out what Katy Perry was actually singing about.

I about died.

I remember laughing my ass off while Katey played this ridiculous song like she had just discovered the greatest musical masterpiece of our generation.

And then, of course, I loved it too.

Because it is a fun song.

So there we were, two grown women, windows down, driving down the road, singing about wanting to see someone’s peacock at the top of our lungs.

😂🦚

There was nothing extraordinary about that day.

At least I didn’t think there was at the time.

It was just another day with my sister. Another car ride. Another shopping trip. Another stupid song. Another moment of us laughing together.

But now?

Now it’s extraordinary.

Because I would give damn near anything for one more completely ordinary day like that.

One more drive.

One more shopping trip.

One more inappropriate song.

One more chance to laugh until my stomach hurt with my sister sitting beside me.

And maybe that’s one of the strangest things about losing someone.

You spend so much time thinking you’ll remember the big moments.

But sometimes the memories that come back and knock the wind out of you are the smallest ones.

A car ride.

The windows down.

Your sister laughing beside you.

And Katy Perry singing about a peacock.

I’ll probably never hear that song again without thinking of Katey.

And honestly?

I hope I never do.