As I reach for a bowl
to make my morning oatmeal,
I see a plate from my childhood
nestled amidst the other dishes
and ask myself,
“What will you remember?”

Father’s day.
I remember to call my father
who has forgotten to turn on his phone.
I wonder if my daughters
will remember to call me
as I recall
the phone they are likely to call
is dead.

I stand,
in the moment,
seeking to commit
the smell of raisins
in the oatmeal
to long term memory
to stay with me
through my final years.

It is a solitary moment,
not one others will remember
when they eulogize me.

In the morning
I go to church
for the weekly remembrance
of the resurrection.

In the evening,
I choose not to watch an interview
with a man who denies
what many remember.

Note: I have gone back and forth about whether to include my "Daily Examen" posts with the rest of my poetry. I have decided, generally, not to. Too many of my other poems are more likely to get lost that way. However, this poem, which started off as my Daily Examen for June 18, 2017, stands well on its own, and I have chosen to include it with my other poems, with my Daily Examen, and also in Politics.