Nostalgia is a beautiful, yet saddening experience that calls upon long-forgotten memories and lets you relive them all over again. The one thing that I feel nostalgic for is my childhood, especially when I was from the ages of 3 to 5. Life around this time seemed so easy and carefree, and it felt like life beat to the rhythm of your drum. You had no worries, cares and responsibilities, and you were completely free from the troubles of the outside world.
I think my nostalgia revolves around my days at preschool. This is where I started my journey in the outside world and met other people and kids my age, while also learning and playing with new things. I remember being a little girl playing on the mustard colored playground with the black mulch that turned your clothes and shoes black and the popsicles that followed after a hot day. I remember learning my ABCs, 123s, shapes, colors, and having parties and “fun days” at the end of each school year. One specific week during Dr. Seuss week, we dressed up like Dr. Seuss characters and ate green eggs and ham. I loved the thought of eating green eggs and ham and watching the food cook on a little skillet the teachers kept. One of my most favorite activities was using the art easel at the corner of the classroom and drawing out numbers and letters in the shaving cream splattered over the tables. Preschool is lamented in my mind as a positive and educational experience that shaped me into the person I am today. Sometimes, I wish to go back to preschool where the hardest thing to learn was how to count to 20 and not college algebra.
Another memory I crave to go back to is my childhood at my grandparents’ house. My grandparents, who I affectionately called “Nana” and “Papaw,” purchased a plot that was once a bus garage for Hall Elementary School and built a new beginning on the land. When the house was first built, my nana traced my hand with a sharpie into the floor before it was covered with flooring. This handprint still stains the floor to this day. I remember helping my papaw out in the garden growing up as a little girl. My nana and papaw raised vegetables in their garden: corn, tomatoes, beets, beans, radishes and potatoes. Potatoes were my favorite thing to pick; I would dig into the dirt with my bare hands, pull the potatoes out of the ground, and put them in my handmade wicker basket. The dirt would gather under my fingernails, and I loved it. I loved the feeling of shucking corn and beans on the front porch, eventually eating them for supper that evening. I loved how the sun felt against my skin picking blackberries and cherries with my nana and tasting the sweet and sour taste of the fruit straight from the branch. I miss these times especially.
Nostalgia has a powerful effect on the mind and body: it reminds you of the times when you were young and the memories that follow. I dream of being a little girl again on her preschool playground and the garden that she loved so much. I wish that we were given the
chance to experience a moment in our lives that impacted us as human beings and if we could, I would choose to be that little girl a hundred times over. I would choose to be that white-headed, pig-tailed girl with the big, blue eyes and crooked teeth that loved the outdoors and school.