Rom + Raf

We thought we were really clever when we were real little; my brother + I came up with names for our Mormor + Morfar [Grandma + Grandpa]. We reversed the names + shortened them, that is how Rom + Raf were born. Anyway, they came out for the day, and it was so nice. It's sad that they're not out here all the time, like they always used to be when we were little. My Mormor would ride her gleaming red bicycle up + down hills with me on the back. A right big lump I was, but she'd always preservere with my annual increase in weight and length of limbs; year after year, she'd still accept my plea to be the lucky passenger upon her bike. "Oy-yoi-yoi" she'd happily pant as we got to the big hills; way into her sixties and still backy-ing me about. She'd ride faster when we passed houses that had big dogs knocking about at, because she'd feel my scared little fingers dig into her just that tiny bit more. My Morfar used to take me over to a tennis court that was hidden in a forest. I thought it was the most exciting thing in the world, and could never understand how he'd have the special key for it that would open a rusty gate covered in moss. We'd play there every year; I'd be scared to miss a ball because he had a stern way with me. But it made me a better player and he knew his gruff methods would work. Even into his 80s, he'd still beat me. I'd be purple in the face and running the length of a marathon, so sure I'd be able to out-age him at the very least. But he'd slice lethal balls over the decaying net and they'd stop dead on the line, with me being sent running the wrong way with a huge frustrated question mark hanging above my head, bellowing with steam.

But now all of a sudden, they seem so old. There is no bicycle riding anymore, or tennis playing. But they are still amazing, with new stories to tell. I feel myself still hanging on their every word, with admiration flooding out of my own ageing eyes as if no time has passed at all and I feel so lucky to be with my Rom and Raf.