I've been thinking about the past lately. I wish I knew for what reason, but it's just the way it is.

The memories I still have from my childhood keep popping up in my head. My mother, sister, and I driving in my mom's old car, singing along to "Our House" by Madness. Elementary school. Swimming at the local pool. Exploring the woods behind our house. I keep on falling back, trying to encapsulate the memories of a simpler time.

The number of times I've wished I was young again recently are overwhelming. Wishing that I could turn back the clock seems to be my only thought anymore.

Maybe it's the impending sense of morality that comes off of my parents. My dad's heart problems, the lines in my mother's face. All they mean to me know is that my parents won't be around forever. Some day I'll have to deal with the fact that they'll be gone.

Nobody ever wants their parents to die, but it's an inevitablitiy that we all have to face. Some day we're going to wake up and realize that they are gone. And there's nothing to do about it.

I've harped on religion for a while, and most of it is because it defies or replaces the need of logic. I'm a very logical person. I'm the kind of person who doesn't rely on faith, just because I'm very cynical and jaded. But whenever I think about the loss of a parent, part of me wishes that I could just let go and believe in God. Or believe in Heaven. That way I could believe that even after they are gone, I'll still be able to see them again.

I've been so afraid of growing up for so long now, that I never really realized when it finally happened. And now all I have are fleeting memories of a childhood that has passed.

It's too late, though. Everyone I know has grown older, myself included. Gone are the days when I was able to roam the woods, searching for hidden areas that I had never seen before. Gone are the summer days spent with my parents on vacation at the Gulf, or just driving around town with the windows down and the radio blaring.

You try so hard to grasp onto something that reminds you of how good life was. But you don't realize it's gone until you really need it the most.

But I'll always have the photographs of these memories... the home movies and the stories from relatives. I'll at least be able to hold on to at least some semblance of what my childhood used to be, and what it used to mean to me.

And of course, I'll always have sunny days with the windows down, blaring "Our House" as loud as I can.