Running, barefoot. Smelling fresh air and food on the grill.
Hoping these days can last. Knowing they cannot always be...
People will be gone, days will grow cold again. Until then I will pretend I can live in this forever.
Celtic music playing loudly in the house, windows open, fresh salad and corn on the cob. Mom and dad randomly teasing me and poking fun just because we can and because we are alive. Where is Beth? Where is Daniel? Its so full and yet so empty.
I sit here and wish for those days...digging potatoes then cooking them for dinner. Helping pin clothes on the line in the back yard. Now its a phone call, a text message.
Return! Someday we will...