I remember when I wasn't tired after only few hours of having woken up I remember

When it wasn't exhausting to laugh I remember

When I could stay up half the night with a cup of ice cream as fuel I remember

When I used to be able sleep peacefully, unawakened by mysterious pains I remember

When I could safely lie on the floor, assured that I'd be able to get up again I remember

When there was no handrail in the shower so I could prop myself up I remember

When the medicine cabinet door wasn't always ajar from the numerous bottles crammed in I remember

When I could walk briskly to the post box to mail something instead of asking the neighbor's girl to do it I remember

When I had to rake the lawn and not enlist my grandson I remember

When the world was sharp and clear without coke bottles on my face I remember

When I could play Mozart on the piano as quickly as I could read it I remember

When I could go to my daughter's band concerts and hear the music without a machine lodged in my ear I remember

When I would skip all the way home from school and indulge in three cookies and a glass of milk—so I'd grow healthy I remember

When I could play box ball and tag with my friends at recess instead of watching my granddaughters I remember

When all the world was new and there for me I remember…