If Only I’d Known     

The list of things I wish I’d known to cherish a few moments longer keeps growing.

Last summer, when we visited you in Sydney, we had a blast. After seven years, I finally came back home, the whole crew in tow, descending on your home for six amazing weeks.

The beds were neat and freshly made, the fridge and pantry stocked. As was your way, every need was met. We were so comfortable.

On one of those first mornings, after the children tried and rejected all the Australian cereals, you offered to make them the oatmeal you ate every morning. They crowded around you by the stove, watching as you stirred oats into milk and squirted in just the right amount of honey. They lined up to receive a prized bowl and gobbled every drop.