In January I went for a weekend to Northern Ireland to see my cousins and Grandparents. For some reason the whole weekend was just a nostalgic, reflective dream – throughout the whole weekend I felt this verge-of-tears feeling as all of these memories just started coming back. There was something quite reverent about it too though, I really felt like I had to cherish each memory and savour it because they’re what my life is built from. I was remembering so many things: the excitement as we drove up the road to my Granda’s house; the smarties and milky buttons we would eat whilst reading our magazine that Granda had gotten us; riding in Granda’s wheelbarrow in the front yard; Granda marking our heights against the wooden post in the back garden… And that was just from coming home to my Granda’s house. I found all of these other memories tucked in between slices of bread fed to the ducks at the duck pond; or just sparked by other memories that had come before. I felt almost an anxiety to try and retain all of these precious memories – so, I decided to write them all down in my journal. There is nothing as satisfying as seeing little bubbles of your life down on paper.


2 thoughts on “nostalgia

  1. What a gift you have Kate. John and I would like to think we are sowing some wonderful memories into our children and grandchildren’s lives and reading your words make us realise again how important are the things in life that can’t be bought! Looking forward to your next posting! Liz x

    Liked by 1 person

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