29 Jul

I want to be a child again, running around without a care in the world. My mum there next to me, cooking dinner with her pinstripe apron, smirking at our antics. What i wouldn’t do to be back there, 8 years old, snoopy jumper, ankle socks. The snowman is playing on the small, white plastic tv, and my family house like a cocoon around me. What I wouldn’t do to be back there, happy, content, safe.

17 Responses to “Sad”

  1. Kelloggsville July 29, 2011 at 11:39 pm #

    Yes. I understand. Hugs.

  2. bsouth July 29, 2011 at 11:59 pm #

    I want what you want. Because I never had it.

  3. scribblingmum July 29, 2011 at 11:59 pm #

    Oh H, I hear you, I’m so sorry you’re sad today. Sending you a big squeezy hug x

  4. Ben July 30, 2011 at 12:26 am #

    Love to you tonight h. I always thought that there’s some way of dealing with grief, practical and all that; but there’s not really. It just hurts. I picture it as a wound – after a while you look back, and it’s still as ferocious. It never heals, but it does get scarred over. Time is not so much a healer as an anesthetist. Xb

  5. Ben July 30, 2011 at 12:33 am #

    …a really good anesthetist. That cares and loves. All my love to you tonight old friend x

  6. mothersalwaysright July 30, 2011 at 6:44 am #

    I want that too. And making up dance moves barefoot to Belinda Carlisle on the patio, wearing an old nightie. I miss childhood!

    Sorry you’re sad, hope the happy comes back soon. x

    • marketingtomilk July 30, 2011 at 8:06 am #

      i love that image. i made up endless dances to material girl with my friend Katherine.

  7. Julia Skinner July 30, 2011 at 8:02 am #

    I do sometimes wonder why we’re not told to really love every minute because ‘when you’re older’ you’ll miss it. Then I suppose that’s part of being human though. Hugsxxx

    • marketingtomilk July 30, 2011 at 8:05 am #

      I think we probably are, but we don’t get it when we’re children, and then when we’re teenagers we know better. Only time and retrospection, tho I’m sure there’s nostalgia in there somewhere.

      • rachel frowd July 31, 2011 at 1:31 pm #

        I keep thinking about this. Why do we not really understand, pay attention to the fact that every minute with someone is precious; every memory should be like gold dust – stored away, remembered and treasured; every story of theirs (no matter if you’re hearing it for the fiftieth time) noted away for future reference.

        The answer i think is that we always think there will be more time.

        Until someone so dear to you has gone, you never truly understand that with them dies all their memories and stories. That you simply don’t get another chance to go back, ask, and listen more intently. I should have known. When Daddy died, I realised that his past died with him.

        I think I was told to try and cherish every minute, but sadly just didn’t understand the meaning. Too young. So, I have to ask myself, how am I going to try and convey this sentiment to my daughters? Sadly, as Mummy always used to say, children just don’t want to be told, they want to experience everything for themselves and make their own mistakes. How right she was.

  8. Emily Carlisle July 30, 2011 at 10:34 am #

    So sorry you’re sad today darling x

  9. susie@newdaynewlesson July 30, 2011 at 6:41 pm #

    Hugs and lots more hugs.

  10. My blog August 4, 2011 at 9:11 am #

    Golda Meir~ We do not rejoice in victories. We rejoice when a new kind of cotton is grown and when strawberries bloom in Israel.

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