What I Miss

I miss having so much passion and so many feelings that I could write a novel, let alone a blogpost.

I miss sleeping through the night.

I miss being in charge of humans who I created and not being in charge of those who created me.

I miss waking up and not feeling pain with the first step in the morning.

I miss remembering names and places and details.

I miss mentioning that I feel warm and not having people make cracks about menopause.

I miss feeling slim.

I miss feeling so young that looking forward was nothing but excitement and wonderful things ahead.

I miss my toddler children who would cling to me and look up to me and think I was the smartest, best person in the world.

I miss the smell of little baby feet.

I miss back scratches from my mom.

I miss my dad...before dementia and Parkinsonism robbed him of his personality and will to live.

I miss having an office and a job and feeling important.

I miss riding in the car with my girlfriends singing at the top of our lungs.

I miss hugging my puppy and smelling her soft fur.

I miss that wonderful feeling of having a free moment to myself in the midst of the chaos of being a working mom.

I miss the feel of a baby kicking from inside my tummy.

I miss the belly laughs of my kids when they were young.

I miss riding my bike when I was young, looking for a place we'd never seen, in search of adventure.

I miss the world before it was snarky and cynical and doubtful and exclusionary and scary.

I miss not worrying about anything except myself.

I miss having total faith in God and not lingering doubts and questions.

I miss not feeling old.