So many things. It always seems to me a curse and blessing that we don't often know when we do something that it'll be our last.
I'd love to sit at my Gran's table, drinking tea while the grown-ups chat around me again.
I'd love to sit with my old and long gone dog, Wilfred, again.
I'd love to wander home at 4am in the morning and sit and eat fish finger sandwiches before falling asleep again. I could do that now but it'd make me feel much worse than it did when I was young.
I'd love to sit in my childhood home again and just take in the sight.
I'd love to sit with my grandad again, listing to Radio 4 early in the morning before anyone else got up.
I'd love to live alone again, but with all my friends and family alive and well somewhere. I suspect the next time I live alone, it'll be because they're all gone.
I'd love to bring my current dog home again as a puppy. He was a little one for such a short time.
I suppose, the thing is, there are also still many firsts to go - and I don't know if and when they'll come. So the future still looks bright, even though I am nostalgic for some things.