It doesn’t matter
how old you become, the closeness of a parent and a child is an eternal bond of everlasting love. I have been so
blessed by my ability to recall times and events throughout my six-plus decades
roaming this world.
I
can remember in vivid details such things as learning how to fish by my dad, or
how to throw a football. I don't just remember the time, but I can clearly see
what clothes we were wearing and what the temperature was outside. I can smell
the cigarette my dad always had hanging out of his mouth, as well as the river
and trees.
When
I think of my mom, I go back to her kitchen and the scent of apple pie baking
in the oven, I can taste the jelly roll up she made me with the extra pie crust.I feel my hand in hers as we
cross the street to the bus stop heading into town. I smell her hair when the
wind blows, and I see her smile as I tell her I'm a big boy now and don’t need to hold her
hand. All of us remember times past and how life was growing up. I think we
tend to remember the better times leaving the bad moments locked away where
they belong. You
won't realize how important these memories are until you understand how quickly
they became just that. Age is a blessing in many ways but can also be
a cruel reminder of having lived a life where the people in it are mostly gone,
leaving you with yellowed letters and faded pictures of a time when holding
your mom's hand or tossing a ball with your dad would become the way you stay
close to them forever.
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