Coming back is not always pleasant.
They say that the second parts are not good. But the truth is that the second part doesn’t exist.
It’s never the same place.
It’s never the same circumstances.
It’s never the same person.
It’s never the same experience, and you know it.
Still, memories can awaken in the heart more desire than the first time.
And those with enthusiasm can turn the impossible into the possible. They can rescue the past and turning it into the future.
It is said that memories are sweeter than reunions.
Expectations do not correspond to reality. Nostalgia romanticizes what we have lived. Wanting to go back to where we were happy is a trap we all fall into when our luck runs out and life turns gray.
They say we romanticize the past.
And that may be true. But the good moments we have lived are sometimes so scarce (or so beautiful) that we must dare to relive them, don’t you think?
Some songs remind me of people.
Some people remind me of places.
Some places remind me of who I am.
In August 1991, I was 9 years old and had zero responsibilities. There was no internet. No one I knew had a cell phone. The only technology I had access to was called a book. And that technology took me to the most exotic places.
That summer I spent in a village with my grandfather.
If I close my eyes, I can still see his broad smile. And his hands working in the fields. If I concentrate, I can smell my grandmother’s cooking. I visualize her cooking beans and scolding me for running around the house dressed as a Cherokee Indian.
Today, there is only the empty house.
My grandfather died of Alzheimer’s without remembering my name. My grandmother died of grief three years later.
But even though they are no longer there every summer, I return to that village. And with my…