Sometimes, I Yearn. . . for a crisp fall apple picked fresh from my Grandpa’s tree, no wax applied, bright and sweet. I yearn for the smell of roasting peanuts in an old iron skillet in his oven hot. There are days that I yearn to hear my Grandma’s voice, scolding, or crooning as she scurries about her tiny, cozy home.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . to hear my Mama singing the old, old hymns, the ones that are nearly forgotten anymore. I yearn to hear the chop of the ax as Daddy splits wood for the first cold spell, and many more throughout the long winter months. There are times that I wish for just one more day of my childhood so that I could run, play, and have so little worries as to wish a gnat away.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . for the days when I was a mother young, my children still underfoot, playing, fussing, sleeping. I yearn for the stories we told, the games we played, the meals I cooked that no one ever-said thank you for, for the piles and piles of laundry, the dog needing walked.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . to have one last time to drive my teenager to school, to fuss about a dress that’s too short, a girlfriend that is not a good influence, a late night out with the fellas with no phone call home. I yearn for the sassy mouth, the stubborn look, the smile from out of nowhere that takes my breath away, the laughter.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . to find my friends again, the ones I worked with, laughed with, shared my heart with. Do they remember me with any fondness now that time has passed, now that we all have grown older and gone our separate ways? I yearn to feel that sense of completeness that the best of friends can bring with just a simple little thing, like a card sent at just the right time or a call when least expected.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . for the lovely young wife and lover I once was. For the smooth skin, the sparkling eyes, the sable hair, the love we shared. I wonder where time has flown, will he love me still, now that these are gone. I yearn to be of nimble limb, to climb the highest hill, with never pausing for a breath.

Sometimes, I Yearn. . . to be not last, to never be the one to say farewell. I yearn to live my life here on earth until it’s done, and then to smile one last smile, and to yearn. . . no more.