Childhood · Nostalgia · Stories

Week 44: The Magic Between the Past and the Future | Everyday Nostalgia

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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”

Childhood · Nostalgia

Week 28: As Precious as Blood: A Story of Friendship | Everyday Nostalgia

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She leans over me, carefully painting a crimson stain across my 4-year-old mouth. Her face is mere inches from mine, and although I cannot see her own mouth, I know she is smiling: the corner of her eye is crinkled and a river of small wrinkles cascades down her cheek. Her hand tilts my chin up a little higher, and I purse my lips tightly together so she can complete my request.

“There you go,” she says, placing the lid back on the lipstick.  “Now, go kiss ol’ Jim-Bo on the cheek. Right here.” With her slightly crooked finger, she lightly taps my left cheekbone, a gentle reminder of where I should deliver the peck.

I hop off the counter and peek around the edge of the bathroom door. From where I stand, I can see him reading the newspaper as he sits in his favorite chair, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose.
Continue reading “Week 28: As Precious as Blood: A Story of Friendship | Everyday Nostalgia”