quiet

 I was so much younger than when life was lived for the next moment. There were no limits, only adventure, fun, and the never-ending feeling of never getting old.

When I think back at the years and all they brought with them, I smile a little and cry at times, both from joy and sorrow. So many have passed before me, and it doesn't seem fair sometimes that I was left here to be the caretaker of so many souls. To keep their flame burning bright and to remember them.

There's so much quiet now as a once full house is replaced with different-sized frames and people staring back at me. Is it odd I talk to them? I don't think so. How else will I remember their voices?

On cold winter nights, I listen for the silence to speak, but it doesn't make a sound, as even the snow treads softly.

I've found peace within myself as I look back on all the memories I made, and I even retain some of them, which is a welcome surprise. Getting old isn't that bad. It's just lonely at times until a child and grandchild stop by and disturb the silence so I can join life again in a world that isn't meant to be so silent.

Mike 2025