Stay a Little Longer

I still feel young. I always say I never really grew up.

But I miss how romantic I was about life when I was younger.

Perhaps it was youth.

Perhaps it was New York.

Somewhere in my past, I wrote reminders to my future self—and now, I miss who I was when I wrote them.

Remember the day you sat with your Grandma in her nursing home, longer than usual, and she kept waking just to make sure you were still there.

Remember the building’s security guard who, every morning, let you know your ex had made it in safely. It was his quiet way of saying she was okay: “Christina’s already in. Tell her I said hello—and Andrea, you have a good day.”

And remember to look up Acker Bilk’s Stranger on the Shore. Press play. Close your eyes.

I must have known, somewhere down the line, I’d need these reminders.

Maybe now you do too.

Notice people.
Stay a little longer with those you love.
Go often to the places—in life or in memory—that feel like music.