"You will never be completely
at home again because part of
your heart will always be else-
where. That is the price you
pay for the richness of loving
and knowing people in more
than one place." ~girlgi
Of late, I've found myself having
a look-see down that dark tunnel
called the past. In thinking of
my childhood, I can't help but
remember those most precious
loved ones, times and moments.
My father; lovely, wondrous
times we spent together . . .
my childhood friends and the
naughties we shared . . .
High school, college strangely
different in their renditions of
memory. The former, an updated
version of my earlier years with
a bit of study thrown in. The latter,
more study and less time for pals.
. . . then lands adulthood on the
scene; shrouded in responsibility,
the ups and downs of monetary
endeavors, the creation of family,
the odd bit of entertainment if
time allowed.
Ever so thankful that retirement
coincided with my total exhaustion.
Still, these golden years allow for
the memories of loved ones to
surface from every segment of
my life.
I see my heart in pieces, spread
out amongst each of those I have
loved in each time and place I've
lived. I find I have no need to
reunite them; I am content with
the broken pieces of my heart.
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