I miss July vacations on my grandmother's farm... Running hard where everything was visible beneath a blue silk sky. Geometric days of feeding hogs, that awful boar....and gathering small brown eggs. I miss granny who did the same work as a man, but her plain hair was a little bigger, hair that when she combed it for church didn't look any different.... Her first language was Ukrainian, her second, English, her third - silence. I miss all the laughing uncles, drawing water at the well, and even the long walk to the outhouse with its year long load of turds.
I miss all those old friends that I no longer see....the boys behind the wheels of Chevy dinosaurs, the girls with bullet-proof, puffed up hair....all with sixteen year old smiles.
I miss the small town cafes from long ago vacations, the mismatched, sometimes bent silverware, meat loaf the regular Wednesday blue plate special, and a little bit of Monday and Tuesday stuck to the menu.
Ex-husbands, ex-friends, the ex-you. Which, if any, do you miss?
Ever miss the disallusioned belief of a "Leave it to Beaver" life, and feel so close to being damned (because man can be so mean to man) that you can almost smell hell-fires burning?
I miss cuffed, corduroy pants, white socks, my braids, and a certain young boy's big, brown eyes.