On Nostalgia

I read an article the other day, someone detailing the pro’s and con’s of going home, and it got me thinking about – my previous life abroad where the town I grew up in no longer exists and the only thing I am left with is the memories of…

  1. Living in the top apartment of a 5-story walk up, and the daily bolt and race down the stairs with my brother, and then the counting the steps going back up game we played.
  2. Rolling and putting away the area rugs in the summer months, exposing the tiles to help cool down the house naturally.
  3. Washing the floors every Friday morning, mostly my mother, while my brother and I played, splashing around barefoot from room to room.
  4. The women in the family getting together every Autumn to sun-dry tomatoes, and other vegetables to be used during the harsh winter months.
  5. Visiting with the extended families, or walking to the central park  to meet them in an outdoor garden cafe, where we hung out for hours talking and laughing.
  6. Train trips to coastal towns for the hot August month.
  7. Listening to midnight Christmas Eve mass from afar on the radio, while doing our best not to fall asleep in our parent’s labs.
  8. Going to the farmer’s market with my father and picking out fruits and even prime-cut meets. Mostly lamb for all of our home-cooked meals.
  9.   Walking everywhere
  10. Experiencing Easter Week celebrations and the smell of spiced bread made specially for the occasion.
  11. Innocent youthful games, like playing hopscotch, jumping rope, and football-soccer with the kids from the neighborhood.
  12. In a summer cabin, sleeping inside a mosquito netting I always imagined was my princess bed.
  13. How cuts and bruises were left to heal themselves or homemade remedies were used to ward off the rest.
  14. Visits with my grandparents, where the highlight of the day was that if we took our mid-day naps, we would get a treat-a bottle of Pepsi Cola. 🙂
  15. New Year’s Eve was always spent with family.
  16. Agreements were based on handshakes. I learned when I asked my father once why every conversation ended with a handshake.
  17. The days my father and I went shopping for a gift for my mother – in the Jewelry district – where he custom-ordered something for her.
  18. The smell of home-made apricot jam, pistachio desserts, and orange blossom water.

Where in the world do you come from?

{Photo source}



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Everyone is entitled to an opinion, it’s what you do with it that counts the most. I choose to share the beauty of what the world offers to maintain a positive outlook and live a fulfilling life. That's my take.

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