RETURNING HOME

I haven't been back home - to my childhood home, the house my parents still live in - for the best part of a year, which is strange considering it's only about fifteen minutes' drive away from where I live. Today I went back to retrieve some stuff, and in the process got caught up in a giant wave of nostalgia. Browsing through the hundreds of CDs in my room, there were more than a handful that I literally had no idea I even owned, let alone have ever listened to; funny that at a time in my life when I had pretty much zero responsibility and all the free time in the world, I couldn't even make the time to listen to all my music.

But what to do with all the sentimental, but otherwise obsolete, relics of the past? I could never bring myself to throw all those hundreds of CDs away (despite having copied all the files to my computer long ago). Not to mention the compilations made by friends, the old handwritten letters (remember when you used to do that?), the various knick-knacks, diaries, sketch books. I have always been sentimental but have become even more so since becoming a parent - entering that phase seemed to push my childhood and adolescence even further into the past, and those souvenirs of a more carefree, hedonistic time in my life have become affirmations of my identity at times when it seems to be lost to the throes of motherhood.

On the other hand, there is something quietly heartwarming about revisiting your childhood in the context of having a child yourself. Toys, baby clothes and picture books all get new life breathed into them, and through the joy that they bring your child, you also experience a renewed passion for all those once-beloved childhood relics. It's nice to see things come full circle in a very tangible way.

And just to illustrate that point, here are some photos of me and Miss S, at around a similar age, both taken at Christmas with our identical favourite toy.