Fits of Memory

On days like this, when all I want to do is cuddle up in my reading nook and cry over an age old family picture, I'm not alone. I'm accompanied by vaguely pictured yet strongly felt memories. They throw me into a haze and shake me in loud sobs, twisting, turning and following weird, unknown mental trails. In a flash of a second I see mother's belly-shaking, gummy smiles and father's broad shoulders overshadowing the entrance to our house. I'm in fits of loud cries and yearn a long, warm hug. I pant for unsolicited affection and large doses of my beautiful past. I wish for a time-machine to take me back to the good old days when unconditional love was a virtue and family was everything. I long to be judged rightly, guided wisely and loved purely. 

Home seems far away but I will soon get there.