The Wonder Years

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The only childhood I fondly remember is YOUR childhood, my girl, not mine. Those were our uncomplicated days … pizza every Friday night, slip and slide in the backyard and you gleefully chasing the latest litter of Siamese kittens all over the house! You guys were all happy and safe and close and home – with me. No, it was not the perfect life, but at least we were all there in the same place. That’s my fond memories of your childhood “wonder years”.

Family photos caught you laughing and smiling or making your goofy faces. Moments, frozen in time, of the boys playing basketball or football in the huge front yard. In some photos you were all seriously busy with some group task like helping paint the doors and shutters; your 2 year old self so focused on holding a wrench steady on the sprinkler system pump for your dad, or helping push-mow the yard (you sitting safely way up there on his shoulders). Was our life back then really like the photos?     I wonder.

Hmmm, is that why I want to call them the “wonder” years?

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I miss you.  So much.

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