The glistening eyes and the humming noise of London hasn't disappeared. Pulling out the gold medal, often from my grubby pocket - I see children's and adult's eyes light up. It takes them back to London 2012; a period in time where perceptions of disability changed for the better. People saw what can be done, rather than can't.
Was it Erraid Davies, Scotland's youngest ever competitor (and the youngest at these Games) storming into the history books to win a Bronze medal in the SB9 100 metres Breaststroke? Jazz Carlin winning Wales' first gold in the pool for forty years? The amazing emerging talent of 16 year old Claudia Frangapane, scooping no less than 4 gold medals? Whirling dervishes in tartan? Usain Bolt clowning with the 'crazy' Hampden crowd? Kylie meets Lulu? Thousands singing in the rain with the Big Big Sing on Glasgow Green? All of those nailed Glasgow's 'best ever' hosting of the 'friendly games'.
I'm 59, the eldest of four siblings, but have no partner and no children. A sense of inadequacy grows: what can I leave my nephews and nieces, and their children? I don't mean memories; I mean, what that is tangible and lasting, that I can equitably share among them? It's like feeling a phantom limb, a shadowy disconnect with future generations that I so ache to put right.
The terms 'great' or 'iconic' are too readily used in our modern celebrity culture, but Margaret Thatcher was a great and will remain an icon of the second half the twentieth century. Her place in history is secured by her position as Britain's first woman prime minister, and her legacy defined by the incredible transformation of the country under the governments that she led.
She was horribly, horribly right wing and I find it difficult to forgive her that. Despite believing in the policies she implemented (the woman really thought she was doing good) I look at the society we have today and I can see the scars her policies left behind. Enormous social immobility and a lack of political empathy.
They say time flies, but it is almost unthinkable that it was six months ago that the Olympic Games opened so spectacularly. The memories will live on for years to come, a summer which saw the best of what the UK had to offer, magnificent sport, an organisational triumph and of course an abiding memory of the team in purple and red: the Games Makers.
Like the rest of the nation, I was gripped by the London Olympic and Paralympic Games. I've witnessed incredible achievements and developed a passion for sports like taekwondo, Keirin cycling and Finn class sailing that I hadn't seen before, but that had me on the edge of - and frequently leaping out of - my seat.
It is just over a week since the greatest show on earth left London town with the promise of inspiration, perspiration and a fitter nation. Well, if the British kid I witnessed in an airport in Spain when returning to Luton at the weekend is anything to go by then it will take more than a 'MoBot' to sort this out.