Visits From Nostalgia.

My town's closest movie store closed years ago, but the other day, I caught the scent of that place. It's a scent I'll never forget. Out of the blue, unexpected, suddenly I was ten years old again—walking into the movie store on a Friday night with my parents, older brother, and younger sister. I would always get the same movie: Thumbelina. I was in love with that movie.

Now, at 31, it still holds a special place in my heart.

But it wasn’t just that movie the scent took me back to.

It took me back to the five of us, taking a short trip to the store together.

It took me back to nights that seemed endless.

It took me back to days that went by way too fast.

It took me back to when the five of us were still under one roof.

It’s funny how a single scent can evoke so many emotions, so many flashbacks. But I also cherish it because it allowed me to go back. It let me escape reality for just a moment, to return to Friday nights when the world made more sense and everyone I loved was still here.

It’s crazy how much nostalgia hit me from just a smell.

Nostalgia doesn’t just bring back moments.

It brings back people.

People who only traveled with us to a certain point in life are here again. Not only do we relive moments with them, but we imagine moments that never happened, moments that never will.

I’m thankful for nostalgia. For the smallest things that let me return to a childhood I’ll cherish forever.

But it also saddens me. It reminds me of days gone by, of people who now only live inside us.

So when nostalgia comes for a visit, I open the door wide. I know the little girl I used to be—and the people I loved—are right there by its side.