things I miss

rainy camp days of letter writing, jacks over slippery baby powder, headphones, and playing sardines: where everyone is "it"
playing monkey-in-the-middle
having a favorite crayon color
when my father made breakfast, eggs, cracking bacon, and carmalized onions
the smell of the newspaper in my parents bathroom
homemade al dente piles of spaghetti, slurping noodles
marionette shows where I’d hold my mother’s hand and look at her after a funny part to see if she was as delighted
brisket sandwiches with ketchup, like my dad ordered
sliding barn doors, baskets of brown eggs, steamed windows, doubled socks, and rolled sweater collars
patches on worn-in jeans
the first page of notes in a new notebook
cookouts where the fathers handled the meat
abominable snowman and Rudolf cartoons
feety pajamas (even though I wore them, I’m sure I always hated them), Saturday morning cartoons
licking wobbly batter off wire beaters
christmas ornaments in their boxes
busy wrapping paper with sleds and candy canes
a bowl of buttery popcorn, a movie on the sofa, in socks with someone I love
apple orchards and cider
peanut butter on apple slices
story time
the sounds and light beneath an overturned canoe
making my brown sugar icecream over a fresh Georgia peach pie
hotdogs with yellow mustard at a ballgame, where someone buys me a hat
peking duck in warm pancakes with scallion and hoisen sauce
being young enough to have to ask permission (someone being responsible for me)
winding roads beyond the city
making an apple pie
farm stands with tumbling barrels of fragrant fuzzy peaches
crawling into my parents bed
sleeping on the floor beside my parents bed
needing privacy, being in a house where closing my door gave me privacy, now I always have privacy.  I miss needing it.
lakeside roads, hammocks, and lemonade stands
road trips with mix tapes and maps and local specials
the smell of fireplaces in the cold, remembering santa visiting our home
the pine needle path to the ocean
washing my hair in the rain
a new Barbie doll
onion rings
coming home to dinner
hearing someone tell me they miss me already

having a valentine



  1. THINSG I MISS but still get from time to time

    fried SPAM with Velveeta and extra butter
    asking permission for liquor -and getting it from my parents ( I was 14)
    alley ways next to my apartment
    making a Duncan Hines cake (yellow cake)
    working at farm stands selling corn to yuppies
    sleeping with my parents because I had no bed
    Privacy-hard to do living with 5 siblings
    domestic violence screams, police car sirens, and garden gnomes
    road trips in a rented car with no airconditioning and no tape deck (99 bottles of beer on the wall)
    the smell of burning homes,forgetting to close the outdoor XMAS lights
    the rotten egg smell leading towards the lake
    HAVING to wash my hair in the rain
    a barbie doll with pen marks on her face( my younger brother did that)
    onion rings
    going to someone else's house for dinner

  2. things i miss:

    sleeping with my leg hooked over his
    my grey cat
    sno cones
    forts made from pillows and sheets
    horseback riding
    playing tag with my dad where the trees were base
    trick or treating
    cooking for a man
    spontaneous, perfect sunday afternoons curled up with him on the couch
    slumber parties
    fresh margaritas
    warm weather

  3. I love lists, and that one made me miss my childhood and teenage years. But mainly I miss the innocence of 'true love' at age thirteen. His hand nearly shaking as he takes mine, the look in his eyes that made me weak with anticipation of his kiss, and then his kiss… He was my first real Valentine, this time of year always makes me long for the sweet innocence of my first love.

  4. i miss:
    *hugs, kisses and the smell of bacon greeting me when i woke weekend mornings.
    *having to take a trip to the library whenever i was curious about a topic, rather than instant info from home online.
    *receiving colorful invites to parties rather than evites, or phone calls rather than emails.
    *when all i needed was a nap to cure all body ailments..not a massage.
    *being able to nap whenever i wanted, and magically finding myself neatly tucked under a blanket or in my mom's arms when i woke.
    *having curiosities when i wasn't allowed access to everything, being able to be naive: wondering how the inside of bars looked, what being drunk was like, what was so great about having sex that drove people to do crazy things, about who my first kiss would be shared with, wondering what it feels like to drive a car, to have braces, to jump out of a plane.
    *not having to put makeup on to look presentable, not having to shave/wax, not having to worry about the shape of my brows, not having to remember the balance in my bank account, not having an agenda at all times to worry about, not having to prioritize myself..nothing was more important that what i was doing at that moment.

    mike, you remind me of the kid that kicked down others' snowmen and sandcastles..the kid easily absent from everyone's list of beautiful nostalgics.

  5. Things I miss:

    My grandmother

    You can pretty much light the rest of the shit on fire. But don't fret, I miss her in the "thankful to have had/known" way not the "wish I could have back because I hate change" way. So I'd have to make two list, and throw away the latter.

  6. "… needing privacy, being in a house where closing my door gave me privacy, now I always have privacy. I miss needing it…"

    Never thought I'd miss that too, but I do…

    Wonderful…I wish my sister were intruding in my room, saying "Your place was a mess! Did you see what I did with your bookshelf, your closet, your shoes, the carpet, those plates in the sink, your files, your cup of pencils, your drawer of panties…."

    She's sooooo like my mother…

    Be blessed

  7. We miss growing up. As it was as we can best remember as our minds were craving knowledge with a child's eye and sponge. We miss the "not knowing" what life is all about (whatever that is). It is the connections of being a child and pondering how things work. Imagination.

  8. True that Agnes, but not really, just having a gloomy day, this probably isn't the forum for that. My apologies all around.

  9. As always, your writing delights, inspires. …even though my own writing is jumbled, technical, strange, scattered.

    The things we miss are simple indeed.

    I miss drifting off to sleep with her head on my shoulder, her hand in the hair on my chest. The impression that she feels safe, anchored by this old-fashioned guy.

    I miss the times to take the trouble to sneak a rose in her favourite colour to the restaurant for our table on the way home before our dinner reservations. These are ambushes of the good kind.

    I miss good relations with my twin, who hasn't spoken to me in 20 months because I am the antichrist.

    I agree with the "silver lining" in Mike's post: Change happens, but we can still sugar-coat our memories of these times and be glad they had some resemblance to how we remember them… bright spots.

  10. You are welcome to come by the school and play monkey in the middle with the kids anytime you want.

    Valentines Day is a silly made up holiday. My wife and I don't even celebrate it. To us it's just our dogs' birthday.

    Happy our Dog's Birthday! For that you and Linus deserve a card. I'll see what I can do. Is Linus (fantastic dog name) a Fox Terrier? I can't tell.

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