I miss Littlefoot. Or rather, I miss my children.
That’s not to say my children aren’t around. They live here with me. We spend lots of time together. They’re just a little older, and ever more interesting. But I miss the eight and six year old them too. They are the kids that loved “The Land That Time Forgot” and saw the world with a beautiful innocence.
I was reflecting the other day, on how my parents miss me (and my other long distant siblings) and it made me realise how much I will miss my own kids when the time comes for them to leave. But I only just realised that I miss them already. So maybe we prepare ourselves for the final separation, by learning to cope with the loss of all their other ages, as we go along.