I’m stage right, peeking out from behind a heavy curtain, waiting patiently for the audience members to take their seats. I do a little twirl and watch my glittery, sequined gown glisten, and when I’m finished, I reach up and smooth down my hair, preparing it for the crown that will surely be placed upon it within a matter of minutes.
Suddenly, I hear the first few notes of my entrance music: The pageant is about to begin.
* * *
Well, at least in my imagination, it is.
In reality, I’m 5 years old, it’s the mid-1980s, and I’m standing in the doorway of my wood-paneled living room, wearing OshKosh B’Gosh overalls and purple Velcro tennis shoes. My audience members are my mom and my 9-year-old brother, Kurt. While my father is there to enjoy the show as well, he’s also in charge of the audio/visual components. In front of me is my plastic orange and yellow Fisher Price shopping cart, and inside it, a wide variety of my toys. Continue reading “Week 46: The Memory-Making Magic of Music | Everyday Nostalgia”
This is the time of year nostalgia really begins to develop into a full-fledged obsession, and why shouldn’t it? Christmas is only a little more than a month away, and I’ve got snowflakes, Santa Claus, and silver bells on my mind.
I know, I know, we can’t forget about Thanksgiving, the forgotten holiday. And we shouldn’t, of course, but I gotta say, Thanksgiving doesn’t hold the same nostalgic memories that Christmas does… Perhaps because Christmas is really a full season that dominates the entire month of December with 24-hour Christmas music radio stations, houses covered in lights, and shopping, shopping, shopping.
Okay, so there is one Thanksgiving memory that sticks out—the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Every year I would get up to watch that spectacle at 7:00 a.m. with my mom, who also loved it. The floats, the marching bands, and those fantastic giant balloons. It’s nostalgic for a lot of people, and we wrote more about it on this post last year (we’ve updated the post with this year’s viewing information). Continue reading “It’s The Most Nostalgic Time of the Year”
It’s 7:48 in the evening, and my daughter, Zoey, and I are almost finished with her bedtime routine.
I close the chapter book we are currently reading, set it on her nightstand, and turn off her lamp.
Darkness fills the room, and I feel the bed shift beneath us as Zoey finds her way over to me. She lifts my arm and settles into the spot on my chest she has come to claim as her own.
“Know what time it is?” I ask.
“One of the best parts of my day,” Zoey replies. “I’ll go first.” Continue reading “Week 45: I’m failing at dinner—but not as a parent | Everyday Nostalgia”
Quick: Think of a place where you have visited or lived in that gives you the feels…
You know the place I’m talking about. That place that makes you feel at peace. At home. The place that your mind goes when you think about your “happy place.” Your go-to vacation spot. Your getaway.
How many times have you been there? Once? A hundred times? Maybe you live there. Maybe it’s a place so familiar you can close your eyes and you are instantly transported there.
Or maybe it’s just a place you saw in a travel magazine, and you knew that was YOUR place, and you knew that someday you would get there. Someday. Continue reading “Go Find Your Place”
I’ve been feeling awfully introspective lately, and a little bit sentimental, too.
Perhaps it’s this time of year, where we are perched precariously between seasons: in a few short weeks, the last of the leaves will fall, leaving us with the gray, barren branches of winter, the ones that always, for some inexplicable reason, make me think of my childhood.
I spent my grade school years growing up in a quintessential, suburban Colonial house in South Carolina. Aside from being adorned with pink heart wallpaper and furnished with my mom’s girlhood 1960’s Dixie White and Gold dresser and desk, my second-floor bedroom was equipped with a large window that looked out over our sprawling front yard.
In that yard, a tall, strong tree stood, one that waved us away to school in the morning and welcomed us home in the afternoon with outstretched branches mimicking a massive set of open arms. My dad helped me move my desk in front of the window so I could sit at it and look out at that tree as I read and colored and drew and wrote in my little turquoise diary with its tiny, plastic, silver lock. Continue reading “Week 44: The Magic Between the Past and the Future | Everyday Nostalgia”