NOSTALGIA

THAT'S A BIG WORD. It needs to be because it carries a lot. Here's sort of a concensus defintion from a few dictionaries:

A yearning to return to an earlier time remembered as happier or more pleasant, or a former place evoking happy memories; a longing to experience again a former happy time.

See what I mean?!

I'm fully aware of the biblical warning about too much sentimentality:

“Don’t long for ‘the good old days.’ This is not wise.”

— Ecclesiastes 7:10 NLT

More than likely I'm misunderstanding the theology here, but a little looking back seems innocent enough and even wholesome (as long as we don't get stuck back there in some kind of "Back To The Future" time warp.) I'm not trying to read the mind of the writer of Ecclesiastes or diminish his wisdom, but he was pretty deep in his "Life is meaningless" phase in chapter 7. I've always been pretty good at finding a way to justify straddling the lines of biblical mandates while staying within the guardrails of protestant guilt. [Is it metaphor mixing if your examples are on the same road, the one with a strong center line and high guardrails? We can burn that bridge if we come to it.]

It looks to me like there's one more loophole in the reminiscing rule: maybe it's okay to journey back to the good old days; we just shouldn't "long" for them. It's sort of like that shadowy line between temptation and lust. Lust is a sin; temptation is not. Remember the truth is that Jesus was tempted in ALL ways as we are yet without sin. Still there is that definition of nostalgia which includes words like longing and yearning. Let's call what we're doing nostalgia-lite. We're just visiting the back-in-the-day for awhile, resting in the innocence and the beauty of simplicity. We'll return to the present after the holidays when we make our forward-looking resolutions for 2026. We should probably drop some gingerbread crumbs on our sentimental journey so we can find our way back though.

Now that I've established that we can do some harmless, seasonal reminiscing let's get started. This time of the year is just bursting with opportunities for nostalgia. All the triggers are here: the sights and sounds and smells, the music, the twinkling lights, wreaths and bells and trees; peppermint and pine. When it comes down to it, isn't that what the season is about: remembering and celebrating? Senior adulthood requires that I watch and read the news and acknowledge the reality that many, too many, in our world have little to celebrate. The harshness of the world in front of them is bound to obscure the promise of hope and peace. Nostalgia for many is bittersweet at best.

Admittedly, nostalgia for me these days is a way of escape. Without getting too bleak, I find the debasing of civility, the dehumanizing rhetoric of politics and the blurring of what is really good and true and beautiful to be disheartening. So, reverie is like layering on warm quilts, turning on a good movie like "Love Actually" or "While You Were Sleeping"; blocking out the uglier ooze. Another tactic for me is to try to provide an alternative to all that while creating the fodder of future nostaligia for the kids and grandkids--sort of like that hapless hero of happy family memories creation: Clark Griswold. In the classic story of Clark and his high hopes for the ultimate Christmas, "Christmas Vacation", we get to see the perfect portrayal of nostalgia: Clark sitting in the attic, wrapped in discarded clothes, watching old home movies of Christmases past and remembering them "better than they were." And in the background we hear the song...

Christmas is the time of year
For being with the ones we love
Sharing so much joy and cheer
What a wonderful feelin'
Watching the ones we love
Having so much fun

I was sittin' by the fire side
Taking a walk through the snow
Listening to a children's choir
Singing songs about Jesus
The blessed way that he came to us

Why can't it remain
All through the year
Each day the same
That's what I wanna hear
It's truly amazin'
That spirit of Christmas

All the kinfolk gather 'round
The lovely Christmas tree
Hearts are glowing full of joy
Sense the gifts that we're giving
And the love that we're living

Why can't it remain (Why can't it remain?)
Oh, all through the year (All through the year)
Each day the same (Each day the same)
Ah, that's what I wanna hear
Listen to me, it's truly amazin'
That spirit of Christmas

Every year our boys would decorate gingerbread houses their mom made for them. And, for seventeen years and counting she has made them for our grandkids and hundreds of other peoples kids and grandkids.

This year for Christmas I decided I wanted to relive the moment of one of my favorite Christmastime memories--the year I got a real Lionel train set. In true Griswoldian style I've created a little Christmas village for my new train. In a few days the grandkids will make their houses and they will become the homes that the train encircles, all done in the spirit of treasurable moments.

Quickly, these moments will pass and I'll ask, as the song does, "Why can't it remain all through the year, that spirit of Christmas?"

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CLICK HERE TO hear the version sung by Chuck Brown and Eva Cassidy.

CLICK HERE TO watch the clip from the movie.

Going Home Again

“You can only be young once. But you can always be immature.”

— Dave Barry

My father was once pastor of a Baptist Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Looking back, I probably didn’t make it easy for him or my mom, the pastor’s wife. I think I was just about Sixteen at the time. Do I need to say more?

There are witnesses to the fact that I may have been at most obnoxius stage of life; to this point. As I slide into full-blown senior adulthood though, it could be that my worst self is yet to come.

"Like I said, things never turn out exactly the way you planned. Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day, you're in diapers; next day, you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place... a town... a house... like a lot of other houses; a yard like a lot of other yards; on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is... after all these years, I still look back... with wonder." From The Wonder Years.

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Now about this church in Tulsa. They have something now they didn’t have when I was a teenager there — a Facebook page. I’m a “follower”. Chronicled on the church’s FB page is a sort of reinvention for the church, which is something that probably could have happened to me during my few years there—reinvention that is.

I found myself a little troubled about the church’s actions, something they called a “reboot”, which included redesigning the church auditorium and changing the church’s name (for heaven’s sake). Why should it matter to me? I only spent a few years there, but they were important years. My dad and mom though, gave all there.

I think this is why it matters. It’s not as though the reboot necessarily does away with the seeds my folks planted there so long ago. It’s just hard sometimes when the bedrock stuff of your life shifts. Not long ago we drove down the street where I spent most of my growing up years. Our little house is gone now, and the Bordens Cafeteria where I can remember getting fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy for Sunday lunch has been replaced by a “dollar” store.

My folks are 92 and 89. My mom still checks “The Facebook” from time to time, when they have a good wireless connection at the assisted living village. If they have taken note of the changes at the church, they haven’t mentioned it. Probably they would see it as progress, and therefore, cause for thankfulness. They are like that.

For me I have the memories: like playing that little game during the sermon where you match up song titles from the hymnal to see what funny combinations you can come up with. My personal favorite: “Have Thine Own Way!” & “O, Why Not Tonight?!” And, I remember the wonderful people there who served with humility. I remember the man who taught my Sunday School class and wrapped up every, single lesson with this: “Now, boys, the lesson in a nutshell is…”

Maybe the point of this essay in a nutshell is this:

"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood ... back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame ... back home to places in the country, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time – back home to the escapes of Time and Memory." — from the book, You Can’t Go Home Again by Thomas Wolfe

Nostalgia: Are You Crazy?!

Apparently nostalgia wasn't always a pleasant stroll down Memory Lane. I was disappointed to read a well-written article in The Atlantic by Julie Beckaug. Disappointed, and a bit disheartened because I really enjoy some quality nostalgizing now and then (not to mention making up my own words).

Turns out there was a time when nostalgia was a disease, brought on by any number of causes including: "A too lenient education, coming from the mountains, unfulfilled ambition, masturbation, eating unusual food, and happy love."

Julie points out in her article that this "disease" first became problematic in the good old USA following the Civil War: "American military doctor Theodore Calhoun thought nostalgia was something to be ashamed of, that those who suffered from it were unmanly, idle and weak-willed. He proposed curing it with a healthy dose of public ridicule and bullying. Maybe this is why most people don't feel nostalgic about middle school."

Maybe I'm in denial about my own nostalgiaism; after all, while I am not from the mountains, I do occasionally eat unusual food and I do enjoy "happy love." But, I want to believe that remembering good times is a good thing.

I once heard a doctor make what I thought was a beautiful point. He said that if someone cuts off, let's say a finger, it is called dismembered, medically speaking. He said that if the finger is reattached it is not necessarily called re-membered but it should be.

That's what remembering can do for us. When we gather at the Thanksgiving table and tell and hear old stories of the family craziness it is like we are being re-membered with all the stuff that makes family; well, family.

You can read Julie's article here: When Nostalgia Was A Disease

Read it. Then be glad we figured out that nostalgia isn't a psychopathological disorder. Then take a few minutes to remember the good times. And if I could make a suggestion, listen to The Beatles "In My Life" while you're re-membering. Then feel free to share a fond memory or two in the comments here.