Once a week social media gets inundated with postings tagged with #tbt. It’s Throwback Thursday, where people take a stroll down a photographic memory lane. I have yet to dig out any of my own pictures from back in the day, but I like to see the ones my friends post; they make me smile.
I still didn’t find any pictures this week, but the hashtag did get my memory to wandering, probably heightened by an upcoming holiday family gathering. And mostly what my memories tell me is that I really miss the good ol’ days. My son will almost certainly skip the gathering, as he has grown distant from the family. And, of course, my granny won’t be there, and I find that’s hitting me a little bit harder than I would’ve expected.
It occurs to me today that the union of my personal Venn diagram of perfect holidays—those that I can spend with my mother, grandmother, sister, and son—is very small, and it’s never going to get any bigger. It also occurs to me that a couple of weeks of just not feeling well has put me in a fairly melancholy mood, and this sadness that I feel is exaggerated. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am sad, and I really do miss the times that seemed simpler, happier. And while a silly little hashtag topic is probably not intended to bring about such gloominess, I think there’s little doubt that a yearning for simpler times is what brought about the theme to begin with, and keeps person after person posting photos from decades ago. Which, of course, leads to the inevitable question: will these days ever be considered the good ol’ days for some future generation. It seems almost impossible, but the photos we take this weekend may someday be our children’s #tbt.
