Nostalgia.
Nostalgia is a perfectly human emotion, and there are multiple triggers that can set it off at any given time — a name, a smell, a photo — a dream, a memory, a feeling of affection. I get nostalgic for my childhood home os Swannanoa, North Carolina — for the experience of growing up there, for family, for neighbors, for childhood friends, and for community. They all play into my nostalgia. So do the mountains, the smell of woodsmoke, dogs barking, crows cawing — even watching cattle graze on a hillside. Nostalgia. I think it becomes bittersweet when it did not end well, got cut short, or was left unfinished. I feel that way. I left my childhood and all its connections after the eighth grade. Then I learned a new set — ninth grade — only to have that all change the very next year. Three years of trying to fit in, be a part, feel at home — but never understand who I was.
Growing is sometimes riddled with ignorance. Our minds acquire knowledge and understanding as quickly as they are exposed to new things, but when those things have limited scope, the result can often be a sort of handicap when it comes to meeting the greater world. Some people never bother. I come from a lot of those sorts of people, and god knows it might be easier. For me that was never an option. I was never going to be able to stay, no matter how precious the memories and experiences, not how nostalgic I may have been, and still can be. No. My road, for whatever series of reasons, led to new worlds and to new understandings, expanded perspectives, and new surroundings. Wish I’d had a road map. Some level of guidance would have been a big help, but when you come out of shelter, safety and a limited perspective, there are no role models for anything else. Everything you do, you learn for yourself. Every advancement comes from a pure determination to succeed.
I can honestly say that I am happy. That’s a huge thing to be able to say, given the myriad possibilities I could have chosen to follow. I do have some regrets — some unfinished business — some open-ended issues I will likely never close. Conversely, I did things I never imagined. I got to work in a career that I loved. Moreover, one that I was good at. (And I didn’t have to run a machine in a cotton mill (unless you count summers through college — those gave me a great perspective on the lives of my parents, my grand parents, aunts, uncles, great aunts and uncles — they did what they had to do to survive and provide for their families. They gave up choices in order to give us choices. I will always respect and honor that.)
I got to travel with my husband — visit places all over the world — Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice, London, Amsterdam, Cairo, Beijing, Antibes, Monaco, Pompeii, Mykonos, Shanghai, Istanbul, Rio, and more. I climbed the Great Pyramid at Giza. Walked the Great Wall of China, touched the Tower of London, walked through Notre Dame and Monte Marte, sat in the Coliseum, and climbed to the top of the Empire State Building.
All in all, I did things — still am. Worked myself into a place where I COULD do things. Made myself. A self made man. And best of all, my list of things I still want to do, despite the passing of years, only grows longer. And I am nostalgic. Sometimes wish to be able to have a piece of that place where I grew up. But I can’t. It doesn’t really want me, and, truth be told, I would find myself not really wanting it either. What I want does not exist. Probably never did, really, except in the eyes of a child. I think that’s what brings me out of nostalgia and back to me, my husband, and who I am. And I’m happy with that.
