Speak of ‘back in the day’. Talk all one wishes of things past. Reject the present, copy grandmother’s recipes, walk up hill to school and home, fight all the wars one may wish in ones mind.
Remember all the joys of youth, pulling pig tails of the young girls before one grew old auenough to mind, juggle all the home work and Playboy magazines you wanted, eat all the ice cream, smoke forbidden cigarettes, laugh ones way through the carnival, dance the summer street events, play the game in the corner lot.
Enjoy the moment of walking hand in hand with she or he, mom and dad; swing from the hands stronger than your childish body; remember the first feel of the very large horse taking a bit of feed from the palm, cry at the beauty of a moving piece of music.
Speak quietly with a child of childish things, remembered with fondness the tiny new born creature seeking comfort in the arch of shoulder and neck.
And remember all memories are black and white – and many shades of gray.
From the reaches,