Nostalgia

I'm not a terribly nostalgic person, but this past week I've really been missing my childhood...

Earlier in the week I saw one of my best friends from elementary school. She doesn't seem to have changed at all, and seeing her made me miss they days when she and I would play in the dirt and run around pretending to be horses. I'll never forget the time she tried to make me into a beauty queen and I ended up with a face covered in blush. (Then she tried to fix it by covering a loofah with soap and water and then pressing it into my face...I'm amazed I'm not blind.) I'll never forget the silly games we would play. I'll never forget how desperately we wanted to be grown up and on our own...

Now I find myself wishing I could go back to those times. They were much more simple. Everything seemed more magical. There were no limits. The future hadn't happened yet, so I could imagine that I really could do anything I wanted.

I hadn't yet realized that science was a mystery that I would never solve, so I could still imagine myself as a doctor. I hadn't yet realized that I really would never hit that growth spurt I was counting on, so I could imagine myself as a tall, blonde, beautiful model. I definitely hadn't realized that things really were much more complicated in the real world, so I could imagine that as a grown up my only problem would be deciding where to live.

Most of all, I hadn't realized that I never really would be grown up. I hadn't realized that there wouldn't be a day of recognizing that I was done growing. I hadn't realized that there really isn't a point in time at which a person stops changing.

It was with these thoughts that I went to my Grandma's eightieth birthday party. I saw cousins and relatives whom I hadn't seen in five or six years. I saw old family friends whom I hadn't seen in an even longer time. I had a good time, and was able to rest and relax more than I have in a while. It was good.

But the nostaglia hit me harder than ever.

My mumzy and I drove by my grandparents old house, and it filled me with a strange mix of emotions. I have so many good memories tied to that house...getting stuck in trees (I was always the one who had to be rescued.), making pies with my Grandpa, hiding under a table from all of my cousins so that I could read a book in peace, playing the piano for my Grandma, throwing biscuits at all of the nasty cats my Grandpa kept around....

I miss those days. I really miss them. But I'm so glad that I got to have them in the first place. I'm so thankful for them.

And I made some good new memories this weekend...I heard some new stories about my Grandpa, and how fond of me he was (it's always nice to hear about how someone loved you), it's now become a tradition to push my cousin Lee's face into a piece of cake every time we have a party, and I also managed to get in some pseudo-sister time with my cousin Emma. And of course, everyone fell in line with the family tradition of constantly offering me food. I can't tell you how many times someone told me to go get another piece of cake or how many times someone asked me what sort of diet I'm on...someday this darn metabolism will slow down!

While it was a semi-sad, nostalgic weekend for me, it was nice, because I left feeling really loved. I guess I hadn't really thought about how much I love these crazy people before, but I really do...I really do. And it's nice to know that they love me back.