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     I love moments of nostalgia. Not the "I remember when..." kind, but the type of nostalgia that seems to drift in from Never Never Land and invade each of your senses, leaving you feeling like you just woke up from the most serene dream imaginable. These moments are few and far between, so I cherish them even more when they occur.
     Today was an exceptionally amazing day. Not because anything spectacular happened (because, seriously, nothing even remotely "eh" took place), but because I had several times today where I was flooded with sweet sensations and memories that I wasn't expecting... and I felt so grateful for just those few seconds to feel peace.
     An especially beautiful moment came over me while I was driving home. I worked the 11am-7pm shift tonight, and the sun was just in the best part of the sky where it's in your eyes at every turn. Most people hate this time of day for just that reason, but not me. It's always been my favorite. The way the sun starts to turn everything a glowy gold color and shadows begin to get long on the ground.... the time of year that is late-summer and it's perfect to ride with your windows down and your hand making waves out the window as you drive, the cool breeze (and occasional bug) tickling your skin as you go. I took a back road home tonight. It was covered with rich, green fields that housed cows lazily chewing away on their cud. I could smell the scent of farm animals, feel the cool wind and the warm sun simultaneously, and hear the sound of birds fading to crickets as the sun sank lower in the sky. And for a moment, I could almost close my eyes and picture my 10-year-old self back in my hometown, riding my bike in the breeze, trying to make the most of the remaining rays of sun before the streetlights sent me back inside for the night. I felt relaxed and happy. I felt free.
     It's funny about nostalgia. It's such a sweet thing, but it always brings a tear or two, almost as if honoring the past with that tear is more significant than just having a fleeting memory on its own. And today, I was moved to tears. I miss my home. I miss my family. I miss my baby. Memories are always bittersweet, sometimes more bitter, sometimes more sweet. If there is one thing that I learned in my nostalgia this evening, its that a peaceful memory, even one worth a tear or two, will eventually come. The blessed feeling is a calming reminder that you once went through something and you already overcame it. And in the end was your peace... unexpected, unearned, and unparalleled.