Missing Pieces

I spent this morning walking around my old, small town. Very little has changed in the last twenty-five years. I was flooded with memories of both smiles and frowns. Vivid childhood thoughts of both happiness and tears. Whenever I feel like a piece of me is missing, I try to remember others from throughout my life. Someone like Bob, who knows his life was a true blessing Having been married for sixty-six years to his wife. She passed away a little over a year ago And he misses their long conversations at night. Some were good and some were bad, so it just goes to show A life spent communicating must be what is right. So, as I sit here on the same bench I used back then, With the same one board as its only missing piece, I realize that the value of family and friends Is what one should use to measure a life of peace.