The Daily Prompt asks:
Is there a period in your own personal life that you think of as the good old days? Tell us a story about those innocent and/or exciting times (or lack thereof).
It would be really easy for me to say that ‘the good old days’ were those before my leg injury and the onset of the Motherships dementia, but that would be a lie, because even back then things were far from perfect.
It would be really nice to say that it was the days before crippling worry and anxiety, but I can’t remember a time without them, and sadly my memory is not what it used to be.
I’d love to tell you it was my school days, but I was bullied. Retaining puppy fat and being somewhat ginger into your teens is a tough cross to bear. Hang in there though my ginger friends, because when you reach a certain age people will be matching your hair to the colour charts on the side of a box of hair dye because they admire it so much. Little do they know that these days mine is enhanced courtesy of one of those very same little boxes.
There is one constant though, life is shit, and it has lots of ups and downs, but everyday, there are still reasons to smile, even if you are so deep in shit that you can no longer see the tops of your wellies, there are still reasons to smile. For me, those are the good old days.
For my friends who ran barefoot with me on beaches and carried me home when I was drunk (thank feck I have strong friends). For the ones who made me laugh until a wee bit of wee came out and cried with me to acknowledge heartbreak. For the people I have loved and lost, whose memories will never die and for the nights under starry skies where you are thankful to be alive to witness it. For all my friends and family, a million and one reasons to smile.
Every moment, every event, every interaction, a memory that can be added into the album entitled ‘The Good Old Days’.