Miles.

If aliens exist with flux capacitors and teleportation machines but haven't come down to share I am NOT letting them remove my frontal lobes for experimentation. Where is Willy Wonka when you need him? Because...

Miles inhibit the making of memories and memories are all we have in the dark and at night when pillows are beneath our heads and blankets struggle to retain the warmth of our own bodies.

In this day with our digital digits there is no time or need for the printing of photographs in order to tell stories of years past. There is no sitting sipping hot chocolate and pining over what has been, capturing the essence of a person in print thereby freezing who they are in time for all those who have come after them.

Suffice to say my little hands and feet, the ones that run like wild beasts and color vigorously on paper and sometimes walls...they don't know you. They don't know the you that myself, as a grown up knows- your love for them and the ache in your own heart to be the one chasing down little wild beasts.

Sadly, what is true is true and all these miles take their toll whether we like it or not.

Yearly visits though glorious are swept out from under us in what feels like moments and turning my back on you to walk towards the security gate knowing what I know about miles makes my stomach churn and not just for the little wild things....but for me.

Ofcourse I smile and blow a kiss and find myself lost in the traffic of shoe removal and pocket emptying and before I know it you have gone and I am crammed into isle 5 seat C on my way back to reality with a handful of memories I have to somehow try and not let slip through my fingers when everything becomes normal again.

Understand, I did not write this to make you sad, although the content could only do so. I wrote this to remind you (me) how lucky we are to have something to miss.

So if you happen to come upon an alien or Willy Wonka don't forget to ask about the flux capacitor.