Has there ever been a more pertinent time to reminisce about the past?
When you felt you had the whole world in front of you or perhaps experiencing the first pangs of (hopefully) requited love and obliviously rushing into something that you could only previously conceive was the purview of adults?
We are reminded to live in the moment, to be mindful, to appreciate our current environment and relative affluence and financial stability but there must be some solace in remembering the past?
Every so often, something, tangible or ephemeral will manifest itself and then I am catapulted back to vivid memories and sensory overloads that catch my breath or evoke painful shards of regret or generate wistful smiles.
Recently my evenings incorporate scrolling through YouTube videos, justifying to myself that I deserve some more “me” time despite my already solipsistic existence. That one song, a long-lost treasure that signaled the start of a relationship with someone special appeared, and as the natural light of the room dimmed and my cheap headphones struggled to process my desire for maximum volume, I sank deeper into my bed and thought about how it all started.
About the good times, the tenderness and the trust and experiencing new things together and creating memories that we would share with the children.
And so, for those 4 minutes and 35 seconds as the song played and every syllable of every individual lyric brought me back to those nights when we sang that song together in your
bedroom, I am grateful for our time together and the children we produced and the joy that those memories, even now, long separated, bring me.