I miss the days when you could stand on a line.
I miss the days where you were chasing a friend and your speed was drastically reduced by a large pair of hands hastily grabbing you out of the path that the Rebbe was about to walk.
I miss the days where the dollar meant that everything will be alright. A blessing for success in all matters goes far beyond the value at the stock exchange.
I miss the days when the lekach was fresh, and standing on a line to get it was the highlight of your entire year.
I miss the days when the beepers would all sing at the exact same time.
I miss the days that made history
I miss the days when glasses were black and thick THE FIRST TIME AROUND.
I miss the days where a Sunday unified with the 33rd day of the Omer brought joy to children’s faces for weeks before. The anticipation was enough to validate my entire childhood.
I miss the days when we were blind to scoffers.
I miss the days so often shown on video today. Why wasn’t I there when I should’ve been?
I miss the days when Chassanim would, as one person, hold their breath for so as not to miss the sound of the voice that Blessed them.
I miss the zig-zag of the lines on Sunday.
I miss the many reporters.
I miss the unity.
I miss the clarity.
I miss the absolute certainty.
I miss the original cornerstone.
I miss the whistling.
I miss holding my cup in the air. The clock could make its rounds two or three times, and until we made eye contact, my hand would not budge.
I miss the dignitaries coming for more than just a photo-op.
I miss opening up the newspapers to headlines that included your name. They called you The Grand Rebbe.
I miss the day that education day became education day.
I miss the booming voice which flowed together so melodically with your voice as it played on the loud speakers.
I miss the days when Yechi was a given.
I miss the days that my neighbor and I would do nothing but sit around and compare tidbits which were shared with us by our fathers from the previous night’s Farbrengen.
I remember finding out which couple walked into your office, and walked out on a mission.
I remember your words.
I remember hearing about Moshiach for the first time.
I remember truly believing with all of my heart that Moshiach was going to come any second.
Our eyes would light up when we were told of candy growing on trees.
I remember when the camp songs would last the entire year because we sang them in front of you.
I remember, I will never forget, I await your return every day. If I cry, it’s only because of the confusion. I remember because I await. I will never forget because you smiled when you said it all.