Ready

September 4, 1999, the hottest day of the year, I watched the sunrise with Dawn. I asked the same hazel-eyed brunette in the same pale blue dress: “What’s your oldest memory?”

She thought, and answered: “Our first reunion, the morning after Canada Day.”

“Nothing from before?”

“My brain’s a picky eater. I don’t know what I had for breakfast, yet I recall every word of our conversations.”

“This is incredible to me.”