Childhood · Nostalgia · Stories

Week 39: Lessons in Laughter | Everyday Nostalgia


Soft morning light gently nudges my eyes open, and I’m greeted by the appearance of a large picture window. Unfamiliar heavy, brown curtains frame its edges, and—for a moment—I don’t know where I am.

But as my senses begin to wake, I hear something: The sounds of hand washing and the voices of my mother and my daughter, Zoey—sounds that are happily interspersed with peals of infectious laughter—and I remember that Zoey and I are sharing a Wisconsin hotel room with my parents. Later today, we will attend my cousin’s early fall wedding.

The unforgiving, uncomfortable bed I’m laying in creaks beneath me as I roll over toward the direction of where the sounds are coming from. A full-length mirror hangs on the wall opposite the bathroom, and in it, though I can barely make out their reflection, I can see those faces I love. They both hold an expression I would only be able to describe as ‘bliss.’ Continue reading “Week 39: Lessons in Laughter | Everyday Nostalgia”

Childhood · Nostalgia · Stories

Week 23: The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow | Everyday Nostalgia

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow | The Nostalgia Diaries Blog

I’m standing in front of the work refrigerator, my eyes scanning the shelves. Although it’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon, I’m just now getting around to eating my lunch.

I’m having one of those days. I’m tired, my head hurts, and I have too many things going on: too much pressure, too many demands, too much work, too many things to remember, and too many cups to fill other than my own. I feel like I’m peering over the edge of a cliff, knowing full-well that one false move will surely send me over the edge.

But as my eyes do one more quick once-over of the fridge, it appears that one thing I don’t have too much of is my lunch. In fact, I don’t have any at all—someone has stolen my yogurt. Continue reading “Week 23: The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow | Everyday Nostalgia”