As the seasons change, months turn to years, older they became. Independence stealing the need of your assistance, bubbles long since turned to college, careers, maybe marriage.
Day arrives, as you struggle to push back the old easy chair. For need of resting the ole bones on a future eerily quiet Saturday afternoon.
Only noise heard is sounds of your Lazy Boy creaking as its done so many years before. Settling in, you steal a glance out the window, a smile cracks, harking back to that day so long ago. Just you & the lil ones. Image so fresh you do a double take wondering if its real.
There In the yard, just you & the lil ones, laughing, giggling as bubbles float, only in your mind. Eyes heavy, begin to close with widest grin, a memory so soothing, to the soul.
Of a dear ole Poppa, who, took the time to ask, "who wants to blow bubbles"??
Yeah, you be a winner in my book.