HOW I MISS THOSE DAYS!

As I get older, I look back and can’t believe that the time is gone. I see my two oldest as little toddlers running around, and I can almost hear them. I remember the way I felt, what the world was like and how I treated it.

35 years is a long time ago, and I’m sure you can recall yourselves 35 years ago with clarity, that is if you are in your 60’s. Your children depended on you; you worked at a job and commuted in some form or fashion. I was still relatively newly married; I had my first starter house, and a nice job in Manhattan, a wonderful wife and my first daughter and son. Life was good!

For the most part I miss those days, but there are things I don’t miss. I don’t miss the prejudice against blacks and gays, I don’t miss the intolerance that existed, or the assumption that because I was white and male that I was cause of all the ills in this world.

But there were some precious moments that I truly miss. I had this little tyke running around the house, filled with enthusiasm, and he was trying to emulate me! That is a proud moment for a father. He would take my old attaché case and “Go to work on the train” as he said. He used to hide on me in plain sight and I pretended I didn’t see him. The hours I spent on the ball field and gymnasiums, and the games of catch with a mitt and a pig skin, all so wonderful.

I remember my daughter, how I would pick her up and sing to her, sometimes dance with her in my arms, and always trying to make her laugh. I would do silly things I will never admit to today, but she witnessed them all, and she and I would spend hours on a Saturday ad Sunday with Mommy on the floor, all for her. And the little guy would pop into the picture and before you knew it be gone.

One day he was about 5 or 6, decided with his buddy Damon, decided to sell rocks door to door in our neighborhood. My neighbors loved it! They would get into conversations with these little guys and report stories that had me on the floor. #1 Son was a perfectionist, and when he introduced himself to someone, he told them everything, his age, his name and where he lived, all rehearsed and exactly as his Mom taught him.

I guess I miss being a father to some wonderful children I had, and there is no more yesterdays, except in my heart and soul. But being older has something being young doesn’t-memories.