La nostalgie n'est plus ce qu'elle était

Jane R has nice essay up at Episcopal Café. The title is "Lost things and the power of memory."


I wrote the following response to her directly: my own tale of loss of a thing.

Lovely essay.

When [my ex] and I first visited St Petersburg I took along my French army beret. It was a gift of l'Intendant Général Jean F Urvoy, with whose family I lived for two months in fall of 1967. I could wear it in France without the insigne of l'Intendance but in the States I could wear that too. I loved it. It reminded me of all those hot army boys (studying to be accountants, alas), of the General and his family, of Montpellier, of France generally, and of my youth.

At some point in our walk toward and down the Nevsky Prospect, the beret fell out of my coat pocket, never to be seen again.

All the reasons you mention - those who gift us with lovely things, memories, connections, stories - made this a painful loss. But there was nothing to be done about it. I sighed, grieved, and went on.

I still miss it.

[The header is the title of a book by Simone Signoret: "Nostalgia isn't what it use to be."]

PS: This is where I lived with them.
--the BB