I’m with Longfellow, who said, Ah! How good it feels the hand of an old friend.
I can’t help it. I love old friends and I love traditions and I love remembering. I don’t know why I’m so nostalgic, but I have noticed that others who are the youngest in their family sometimes share this trait.
Maybe it’s because we watched our older siblings go through changes before we were ready for them. We were left standing at the screen door looking out as they walked away to their first day of school, left home to go to college, went off to change the world. They wanted to shake things up, while we were left wishing they could stay the same just a little longer.
Even though it is so much fun to explore and discover new things, I find such comfort in the past, and in traditions that tie the years together. I will always share messages with my dearest old friend on the longest day of the year. The dogs will wear special party hats at every birthday. I’ll use the Styrofoam Christmas ornaments and strands of silver tinsel from my childhood until they disintegrate. And I’ll never part with the letters from my grandmother in her old-fashioned script that I keep tied together with red ribbon.
Whether it’s an old friendship, an old tradition or an old keepsake, I cherish it. And Longfellow was right: it feels good.