I miss my childhood and youth really bad, and even though it was less than perfect, the energy I had was unstoppable, and everything was a new and exciting adventure. New friendships were born, milestones were enjoyed, and embarking upon ones journey to gain a foothold in the world to enjoy independence, was the biggest thrill of all.
I miss the days when my children were little, them toddling around the house, their laughs, the sound of the padding of their tiny little feet on the floor... the walks, the talks, watching them grow, and guiding them through life, step-by-step, one day at a time, and just being there for them.
I miss Christmases of the past, where the house was always full and bustling, when music filled the air, and when life just seemed more carefree, and I really miss the days when I'd be busy preparing supper in the kitchen and my kids would come running in and excitedly ask, "what's for supper mom"?
In many ways, a lot of what I miss haunts me and visits me like ghosts from the past, it never goes away, and while mostly silent, the ghosts come to life whenever I reminisce and reflect upon fragments of those lost days, those lost times, never failing to warm me inside while reminding me that life doesn't stand still, and of course, there comes a hint of melancholy attached to.
I could go on and on...