At night, the water in my parents’ pool would create the most beautiful, soothing reflections up on the white beams of their screened porch. I loved looking at the underwater lights, listening to the soft hum of the a/c unit on the side of the house, wrapped in the comforting mugginess of a South Florida evening.

On Sundays, we would get together at my parents’ house and have a late lunch around their kitchen table, overlooking that sparkling blue pool and the lake behind it. There would always be a Mamma Duck and her kiddies gliding over the water. It was a big lake, although man-made, and off to the left there was a fountain that was always on, and at night it would be illuminated with soft lights. We would sit, eat roast chicken and rice, talk, and joke around all afternoon. My family had a great sense of humor. It was a lot of fun.

My sister and I still talked. We all had the same lifestyle. I saw my parents every day. My husband and I still had the same goals, and every intention of growing old together

I have been consciously trying to get away from my tendency to live in the past, and realize that things change, and embrace these changes. But it’s so easy to long for a time when things were different.