Fleeting

From 6/26/11

you get glimpses of it now and then
a dog rolling in the grass
a child chasing bubbles on an emerald lawn
the first I love you in a relationship
the sound of a stream tucked away behind its banks
a breeze over the mountain, just cool enough to cool, just warm enough to make you smile
the first few rays of a sunrise
the first raindrop on a hot day
that sound the ice makes when it settles on the lake  (whoomp!)

there's joy in that.

Ma says that I'll never be over it completely.
That something will bring it back all of a sudden, and sometimes it'll knock me on my ass, and sometimes it will just make me sad, like when you remember the loss of something special, but not wholly remembered, from way back in your childhood.  

Something that was good, but not quite strong enough for detail.
I don't know, but I hope she's wrong.  I don't want that.  I want the future.  I want to be--me again.