No, not recently but the memory and the yearning for it attacks me regularly: when my girls were little and they would, for no reason at all, leap into my arms for a hug. Good god, how I miss that.
In the present time, Mrs. Director does a great job around the house keeping things clean and orderly, all but one place: on and around her nightstand. There is a little zone of complete chaos there and she is mostly oblivious to it. Except when an avalanche happens.
Last week, I was carrying a big armload of dead vines I'd that hacked out of the backyard into the garage. It was wider than the person-door and so as I struggled to push the giant mass of foliage in through the door, one of vines snapped forward and knocked my glasses onto the concrete floor. So then I was standing there holding this giant unwieldy mass of ivy, blind, with my brand-new very-expansive glasses somewhere near my feet on a hard floor. I managed to just heave the whole mess forward as hard as I could and then bend down at the knees without moving my feet to feel around and find my glasses.