Little Girl With Two Ponytails

It was another day in September, Singapore's haze was a common sight. It was warm and humid, it was grey just like most days here.  I was waiting for my appointment and decided to sit by the playground. My eyes caught the sight of a little girl, maybe two years old, walking with her mother by her side. She had two ponytails, looking so much like the girls that I used to know. It suddenly hit me right in the chest, I felt a little pain there and I started thinking of my little girls.

I started to remember how adorable they were at that age. How much they loved and adored me too. How I got lots of hugs and kisses from them. How they always wanted to be near me, to be with me. They wanted to sleep with me and they looked for me when they woke up. How they cried and looked for me when they were hurt. I was their world. The only one. 

They laughed over little things. Nobody had to prove that they were smarter than others. Sadness was wiped away easily. Laughter burst just like that.  We giggled, we laughed out loud over simple things.

Flowers were beautiful, butterflies were gorgeous. Being princess were their dreams. Pink, purple and yellow were their colors. Not black. Not white. 

They were a lot of work but they never hurt me with their actions and their words. Everything was simple and straightforward. No misunderstanding, no complications. There's no need to think hard of choice of words, no big words coming from their little mouth. 

Those times. Those precious moments. The ones that I could never get back.