I Miss You

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When this old gal was little…

Santa always filled the Christmas stockings…with an apple…an orange…and a whole lot of peanuts in the shell…

Smiling pictures would be taken…with the poured out contents…thus beginning…a holiday tradition…

Mama me…had a tradition of her own…not sure how it started…or why it started…or why we thought it was so gosh darn funny…but every year…it was a thing…

The eating corn on the cob picture…first crop of the season…serve up corn and burgers…get out the camera…and snap those girls of mine…munching away…

Twenty years later…can’t have corn…without thinking of that tradition…the posing…the laughter…the this-is-so-corny-but-also-so-fun ridiculousness of it all…

And twenty years later…who knew…corn on the cob…could cause a twinge…a melancholy…a tiny little kernel of heartache…

For those days…with those…sweet…corn eating babies of mine…was nothing short…of a-maizing…and some days…like these days…so dearly…missed…
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And those daughters of mine…agree…