Our existence is in a constant state of change. The Universe and everything in it.
Our world.
Ourselves.
“Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes… Time to face the change.”
Well, darn it. I like the yore.
The long ago. The former times.
I like to remember things about the past. I believe a lot of people feel the same way as well.
I know we shouldn’t dwell there. But it is nice to visit that good old yore from time to time.
And I think people like to remember the past because nostalgia is a powerful emotion. It conjures up all sorts of feelings of warmth, comfort, and happiness associated with our positive memories from the past. It feels good to think about eating Mom’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes with my brothers and sisters in our kitchen on Bruce Avenue.
Not only that, but our past experiences shape our identities. The person we are right now is a total sum of all our past experiences smooshed into one space. Our now.
Along with that goes gratitude. Our reflecting on the past can help us appreciate the goodness of our lives and all the people who have been a part of us. Gratitude for past experiences can lead to a greater sense of well-being.
So yes. I like to go back from time to time.
But here is another thing about me. Sometimes, I like to revisit the times that came before me. I like to read about these past eras or watch a program or movie about those long-ago places and events.
I was thinking about our old house on Bruce. We had a “coal bin” and “fruit cellar.” They weren’t those things any longer. The fruit cellar was my dad’s tool room. And. The coal bin was an empty, dark, scary room that we kept closed off most of the time. Both rooms had flaky concrete on the walls and smelled musty.
But the point is, they were, at one time, functional. One was a place where the coal truck pulled up to and dumped coal in to heat the house. And the other one stored fruit for the winter months. Back in the yore.
My parents would talk about other old things that interested me. Like the milkman. Or the iceman. Mom remembered the iceman who visited their house every week. She was just a little girl, but she remembered how he would lift up a big 50-pound block of ice from his truck and carry that thing with a large pair of metal tongs all the way into their house. And he’d proceed to hoist it into their “icebox.” I don’t think refrigerators became affordable until the 1930s and 40s.
But things like icemen are gone now. Milkmen. Coal bins.
Rotary phones. Paper maps.
Big family dinners with meatloaf and mashed potatoes and my seven-year-old self.
And sometimes, I simply miss the yore.
I bet, sometimes, you miss your yore too.
“”””””””””
“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” — William Faulkner
“”””””””””
“Nostalgia is a file that removes the rough edges from the good old days.” — Doug Larson
“”””””””””
“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” — Chinese Proverb
“”””””””””
The “you are” of your yore.
