Writing

I’ve Become A Nostalgia Whore

  • February 5, 2011

nostalgia noun; a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition

nostalgia, baby
nostalgia, baby by catklein, on Flickr

One of the biggest source of inspiration I draw upon is my nostalgic personality.  A natural-born writer and creative force, as a child I tried to write down daily events and happenings on a regular basis and no matter how small, or seemingly insignificant.  Sadly, much of my personal written history has been lost to the ravishes of time, carelessness, or both.  Indeed, much of my early playful beginnings were at one time recorded on paper in gory detail.  Over the years, I’ve used my gift of writing and now more recently, photography and video as a means to hold onto precious moments before they pass.

I will, on occasion, keep relics or souvenirs from everyday life.  Concert ticket stubs, ID badges from past jobs, even things I’ve found on the sidewalk like discarded notes or stray playing cards.  Very rarely, if ever do I part with these items, but when I do it’s either by accident (a.k.a. carelessness) or intentionally if the artifacts are from painful or upsetting events or memories.

The artifacts I cannot part with are the ones that remind me of extra special and/or particularly memorable times in my life.  When I see or hold these things in my hand, it takes me back to an earlier time as if it were a bookmark in my memories.

Examples…  I still have my badge and photo ID from when I had a job in New York City / Long Island as an EMT.  I probably have an old uniform from there packed with the rest of my belongings when Angie and I moved back Upstate.  Along these same lines, I still have my first-issued EMT card from 1998, my first Firefighter-Basic certification, as well as my first pair of scrubs that I wore the first (and last) day I worked in an emergency room.

Up until just recently, I had notes, patient assessments, and case studies from the 2 years I was in bed school to become a Paramedic.  I ran the pages one-by-one through a shredder then burned the pieces, and not because of confidentiality or fear of being sued over the mere possession of the materials.

Someday when I have the means, I’d like to put my nostalgia collection online to ensure that my collection of sorts will be immortalized through the advent of the digital era.  Besides, who wouldn’t be curious to see it?

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