Nostalgia

Traditions may sometimes expose a resistance to change, to adapt, to evolve, to grow. The sentimentality, the nostalgia, felt for a prior time and space when the wide-eyed wonder of a newfound world seeped in and evinced delight. The older I grow, the less I seem to smile, at least with the amazement of the magic of a day. As age and passage modify traditions, we miss those not present here any longer—

the empty chair, the missing dish, the well-loved recipe, the gentle laugh, the tender hug.

It’s for this that the Christmas holidays, in particular, start with a bang and taper off in a whimper as we age. I may rail against the change, but the answer lies elsewhere—

in the magic of a moment and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

Those who have gone before rarely, if ever, come back. I choose to think it’s so much better there. Maybe they don’t want to.