Nostalgia: a sad pleasure experienced in recalling what no longer exists.
That’s what Merriam-Webster says, anyway.
The older we get, the more we feel it. At least I do.
I get nostalgic about the smallest things… like the days when Trixie was pitter-pattering her little feet all over the cheap linoleum floors of the kitchen. She would scream with laughter as I chased her around—blonde curls bouncing, blue eyes lit up with joy, and rosy red lips curled into a wide smile as her chubby toddler legs tried to outrun her mama.
I can close my eyes and remember a day out on the boat. The sun was shining hot, and the sound of the boat cutting through the waves of the lake rocked her to sleep in my arms. Her chubby lil cheeks were warm from the sun as she laid on my chest, her face tilted up at me. I remember every detail of her sweet face—dark lashes resting against her skin, her lips slightly parted, curly tendrils escaping her ponytail and dancing in the breeze. She smelled like suntan lotion and sunshine as I kissed her hand, still dimpled where knuckles would later appear.
The memories of her childhood are like movies playing through my head. Soaking wet and pretending to surf in a rainstorm out on the driveway… all bundled up and sledding down a snow-packed hill in the winter… dancing through the house in her dress-up princess gowns… driving off with her brand-spanking new license… looking stunning in her prom dress… hugging her friends in cap and gown at graduation. It’s like a reel that plays back the sweetest moments of her life, and I feel nostalgic for every single one of them.
Not all memories bring nostalgia, though.
There are memories of my life I’d like to forget. Cringe-worthy moments of sticking my foot in my mouth.
Aunt Suzie: “How does Trixie like her car seat?”
Me: “She HATES it!”
Moments later, I remembered that Aunt Suzie bought that car seat for us… and now I looked like an ungrateful jackass. The conversation had already moved on. I could not take it back. It was too late to explain that Trixie hated being constrained in any way and would fling her limbs out like a starfish with super-human, non-bendable strength as I struggled to safely get her buckled in.
That happened years ago, but my stomach still curls up a little when I think about it.
Other moments I’d actually love to forget include falling down the stairs at work and being hauled out on a gurney in front of hundreds of co-workers. I can still hear the first responder rushing up the stairs saying, “Holy $hit—it’s a bloodbath!” I’m still not sure who had to clean up after me that day, but I am really, really sorry.
I’ve caught my hair on fire in the bathtub from a candle, ran over a deer with our bonus kids in the car on the way to Thanksgiving dinner, and rammed my friend’s car into a gas pump bumper with a car full of people in tow. I mean… we’ve all done things we wish we could forget, so it’s not just me. Right?
I even feel nostalgic about my life with Harley—and I’m still in it. I look back at photos from our younger days and want to jump right into them, just to spend a little more time there. I think that’s why pictures are so precious. People who are no longer around can stay with us forever. Friendships wane and people move on but that one moment in time is ours to keep and cherish.
Maybe that’s why nostalgia feels the way it does. We don’t miss the places or even the moments as much as we miss how they felt… and who we were when we were living them.
And maybe that’s why this line from The Office hits so hard:
“I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.”
Turns out… we’re probably in them right now.
Thanks for reading ~ Roxie 💙
Roxie Rides Again 