I still do some habits my grandpa did before he passed, I still make his horrifically amazing coffee (more of a hot chocolate than anything else.)
I still do my uncle’s foot tap and I still call people by hun from my mom.
My grandpa taught me to whistle and he did it fantastically. I whistle like shit. I whistle so fucking much though and the other day I caught my mom (who whistles well) copying my crappy little stim whistles.
My mom still has a southern accent and I copied my singing voice from her. Sometimes when I sing songs I learned with her or from bands we love I still have an odd bit of accent from her.
I got my way of cursing from my grandpa most likely. I remember him cursing like my mom did. It was a while ago.
My mom told me a story once of how her grandma would come in at night to check on her. Only recently did I realize she does the same for me.
My moms boyfriend grabs rocks from places he works because when we go on trips I collect them. He told me this the other day offhandedly. I was stunned for a second I think.
I still have habits from an old groupcat in the way I send messages. We would send them one bit at a time but all in the same message. I occasionally call someone something duck themed because my friend called me and odd little duck so often I couldnt forget it. I felt so comforted the nickname. The same person would have me make my pfps cats that would match his cat pfps. We never dated or anything. On that app I still try to match his old pfp. He hasnt been on in a while. I miss him a lot some days.
There was someone I used to know who hummed. Always the same song. I find my mom Humming it sometimes.
Every once and a while I find myself straightening my sleeves in a very odd manner and I’m thrown back to watching my omma straighten her sweaters in the kitchen at Christmas.
Its little things I suppose. It’s odd. Seeing family collect bits of you and you collect them back. It’s been a while since I’ve seen people who cared.
It’s not the same as this person talked about. Atleast I dont think it is. But I like to see what I collect. It’s kinda like a rock on trip. Maybe one day I forget it in the car. It waits for a long time but then when I’m closing the door, I feel it under my fingers. Maybe one day I will remember forgotten habits and wish I had collected more memories and habits and ideas from the people I loved. Maybe I’m thankful I didn’t.
It’s all the same either way though.
germansingergirl
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