The Good Old Days

I often miss the way things used to be. I miss people’s company, laughter, and their joy. I miss the way I felt when I was with them. I miss the memories we once shared together, now only living in my mind for whenever I wish to recall them. I miss the summer air on my sunburned skin as I watched fireworks over the lake on the Fourth of July, surrounded by people I’ve never met, and yet feel a connection with for what we’re celebrating. We’re all in one place, in one town, celebrating our independence through the pounding fireworks and the sizzling of sparklers, afraid they’ll scorch our skin if they burn too close. I miss the taste of chocolate cake, after having opened presents, celebrating birthdays with those I proudly call family, biological or not. I begin to miss the familiarity of that road often traveled once I’m in unfamiliar places. I long for the dances I used to participate in, where the music had been embedded into my head and I remembered every note. I miss the smell of the river and the feel of the water in my hair where we used to swim for hours, fearing alligators but prepared for the adventure of it all. I miss my face being subtly sunburned from the hours swimming in the pool with my siblings, eyes stinging from the chlorine. I miss the calm of the ocean waves crashing on the sand only recently illuminated by the sun, being the only intruder to the silence that fills my ears as I begin to drift into sleep. I miss the days of driving fast down the road, knowing things are horrible, but in that moment, as the windows were rolled down and the music blasting, realizing that everything is going to be okay as long as I’m where I am right now. I miss riding my bike through the woods and out into the streets, the contrast evident by the sight, smell, and sounds.

We all miss what used to be. We miss when we were happy, and we associate our happiness with the things that surrounded us and not with ourselves. We long for people most when we feel alone; we only start to appreciate the value of things once they’re gone. These are the days in which I dwell in the past, simply because I refuse to acknowledge or accept the present. I don’t want it to be real and I just want to pretend as though it’s not over, replaying memories in my mind until the feeling I got from it has been exhausted and no longer has any effect. I long for the days when things were okay. And yet a persistent thought is, “Just wait for the day you wish you were where you are now.” In times of hardship, it’s difficult to grasp how things could be worse or how you’d be in a position where you would miss where you are now. Yet it’s entirely possible.

You’re never going to be content if you’re constantly wishing for the days when you’d have more of a reason to be happy. Those memories we often long to relive are the ones that have shaped who we are today, the representation of the things we’ve grown to appreciate or despise, the things we honor or disrespect, and the things we give our time to or ignore. This gives our memories both a dangerous and yet influential power that shouldn’t be ignored. We would rather spend our time looking at pictures of our loved ones rather than actually starting a conversation with them, even if through social media and not in person. We look at the gorgeous pictures of the beach we once took, instead of taking in the marvelous trees and skies surrounding us, the sun shining across the clouds as the day comes to an end. We live in the past, ignore the present, and worry about the future. Perhaps we’d be less scared of the future if we simply lived in the present, instead of recalling how things used to be and how it all went wrong.

Of course, it’s always good to acknowledge the good times, but once you let it control your happiness and be the standard for how things are “supposed to be,” then you’re going to be severely disappointed. No matter how good it gets, there’s always going to be something that will bother you and interfere with your happiness. And no matter how bad it gets, there’s always some way for it to be worse. Acknowledging the present and actually living in it is something I often fail to do. I tell people stories, or start a conversation with “Remember when that happened?” instead of asking them how they are in this moment. Part of my happiness at this point is dependent on letting go of what’s passed and holding onto what I still have, and I encourage you to do the same. If we simply began to live in the moment and appreciate the blessings we’re continually receiving, I’m sure we will all be perhaps a little happier than we often find ourselves.