Roots

In fact we do long for the best of memories there were, for our once-innocent souls, when we had no plan but fun.



The way I see us humans is the same we see a tree, with all of its changes along the years, different color for every season, shedding leaves and growing newer and better ones with fruits and flowers that grow more and more everyday. But throughout all the changes, the roots are all that of a tree that remains. For each and every one of us there are roots that not only shaped a life ahead, but also made sure to leave a mark engraved in one’s own memory.

We’d be lying if we claim we don’t often long for days that took place years and years back, days back when all we knew was giggles that filled the lives of ours, days when simplicity ruled, devoid of the heaps of burdens that now strain our minds and shoulders. In fact we do long for the best of memories there were, for our once-innocent souls, when we had no plan but fun, when we saw the world through playful eyes that never witnessed harm, hurt, loss, cheating nor fights.

We long for times when the family gathered and talked their hearts out instead of holding their phones, when letters were carefully hand written instead of a careless text, when birthday wishes were meant truly instead of a virtual greeting, when the best of games were originally invented in the heads of ours instead of a blockbuster application on the screen of our smart phones. We long for the perfect struggle of repairing a cassette tape, the hours well-spent building a lego castle, the feeling we get with every well-deserved new toy after we’ve behaved, the lot of our favorite childhood’s food and music that still get our hearts on their feet dancing to every note within.

Those memories are the box filled with goodies that you run off to at your lowest in order to get you back up, those are the roots that never change place no matter the weather, whatever season. Those memories are the arms you lean on when you begin to fall..