The heady taste of nostalgia

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I am so ashamed of myself. So Ashamed!

This past week I attended a 5th grade graduation for my niece. I loved it, mainly because it reminded me of other 5th grade graduations of the past. A time when one or more of my children were tiny little munchkins who I tossed on my hip and carried around everywhere I went.

It made me rather nostalgic. Maybe a little too nostalgic.

Because when my sister-in-law had the misfortune of having both of her daughters (ages 1 and 3) begin to cry at the same time, all I could do is laugh.

Oh, I had plenty of empathy for her. I had been in the exact same situation innumerable times before. I well knew the frustration and embarrassment she was feeling. All she wanted was a little help. All I gave was a little laugh.

I hope she can forgive me some day, maybe when both of her girls graduate high school.

Until then, I’ll just have to admit to myself the sad truth. My reaction was unhelpful.

But really, at that moment I wasn’t myself. My brain wasn’t functioning properly.

How could it function? I was drunk on nostalgia.

What do you think?