Cyclical

It's very strange to find yourself in situations you've been in before, but not as yourself.

Being the one standing on the edge of the deck to cries of "watch me, Mum!" when you can remember being the one doing all your tricks, and being frustrated that Mum was always looking away being busy elsewhere.

Being the one yelling "look at your room!"

Secretly stashing away presents in preparation for Christmas time, at the top of a cupboard which will eventually become the first place the kids look in their hunt in December.

Handing over the bowl to be licked clean

Having the car running

Showing the the oldest sister and brother the games that my brother and I used to play.

Always being the one who counts to ten in a game of Hide and Seek, no longer being the one with my head thrown under a duvet, wriggling and giggling in anticipation of being 'got'.

Watching from the far sidelines as the man that I grew up with next door, Dad's best friend, my friend's Dad. Always there, a big man's chuckly, always telling jokes, fights a nasty and losing battle with an illness of the elderly.

Cyclical.