A few years ago, I saw a Tweet about nostalgia. It was written from an Angelâs perspective while God was creating the feeling. In short, the Angel was very disappointed that you could have all these wonderful feelings from youth or the past that canât seem to be recreated in the present. That, of course, is nostalgia: a yearning for past joy or comforts…or loves. And while the Tweet was pretend and funny, it was painfully accurate.
I donât know about you, but the holidays always bring on the feeling of nostalgia strongly for me.
One of my fondest holiday memories from when I was a kid was putting up Christmas decorations with my mom and dad and my oldest brother and his wife one evening. It was very casual and I remember it very clearly. I remember my sister-in-law placing a decoration on our mantel. I remember my mom sorting through a box of ornaments. I remember my dad doing something by our tree (when it stood in the corner of our living room instead of in front of the bay window, which places this instance in my young childhood). I remember my brother placing a box on the floor. I remember the lighting. I remember the feeling. I remember the warmth in the house. I remember the decorative holiday mugs and glasses my mother used to have. I remember bags of McDonaldâs on the dining-room table and eating a McRib and fries. And I remember knowing I was very happy.
But it wasnât real.
At least, Iâm pretty sure it wasnât.
First, we religiously set up our Christmas decorations the day after Thanksgiving, DURING THE DAY (my own family and I do this today, as do my siblings and their families). This memory takes place in the evening. Second, the presence of McDonaldâs also suggests this isnât real because we would have been eating leftovers, not fast food. And we rarely ever picked up McDonaldâs for dinner. The McRib, though incidental, provides even more evidence after researching its history. McDonaldâs introduced the sandwich in 1981 but removed it (from US menus) in 1985 for poor sales. This puts me between the ages of three and seven.
In this memory, I was eating a whole McRib sandwich with my hands. When we were kids, my mother was always worried weâd choke on our food, so she was known for basically pulverizing our meals. Honestly, if my mother could, sheâd probably still be cutting up our food into miniscule pieces to this day! That said, thereâs absolutely no way around 1981-83-ish would I have been eating a full sandwich with my hands. So that leaves one real year in which this could have been a possibility, if McDonaldâs removed it from the menu in 1985. So maybe this memory does take place the day after Thanksgiving 1985, but itâs doubtful in my opinion. McDonaldâs brought the McRib back in 1989, but by Thanksgiving 1989, my oldest niece was born, and she does not appear in this memory with my brother and his wife. Of course, maybe she was there and I donât remember, but I can recall nuances about my brother and his wife that suggest they werenât yet parents. Additionally, in 1989, I was eleven. And while eleven is still childhood, youâre getting really close to teen years, and with it the attitudes, and in this memory, I just wasnât there yet.
There are few more details I could offer that suggest my memory is more fantasy than reality, but Iâm pressed for room, and the items arenât nearly so evidential, so we can leave them off.
So where do I go from here?
Somewhere along the way, I either told myself a story and turned it into a memory or perhaps Iâm conflating two instances from my youth and designed one memory, which Iâve always craved to relive. (I even tried to with my wife and son and a McRib this holiday season, and like a bad cake, it did not turn out but fell flat.)
It almost sounds unhealthy but Iâd argue the point because whether itâs true or not, the âmemoryâ furthers my love for my parents, by brother, and my sister-in-law and that canât be a bad thing. Thatâs what the best stories do: they make you fall in love.
But this nostalgia thing. Itâs really a slap in the face sometimes, right?
But I think this is what nostalgia is for. I think itâs a learning tool. I think it helps us slow down and appreciate what we have while we have it and it helps us grab the things we love or the good times we have in the present and recognize them as such while we have them so we donât have to wait decades to fully embrace how wonderful an experience was without ever having the opportunity to recreate it.
And thatâs what I call…wait for it…A Wonderful Life!
Happy Holidays, Everyone. I wish you each the very best this season and always. Please see the Sun Dayâs holiday message to its readers on page 7. Itâs short but heartfelt and meant strongly. And to any of our advertisers reading this Happy Trails, thank you for your loyalty and for sticking with us in 2020. I canât mean that enough this year. Thank you!
