My family gifted me with a handmade photo album as a leaving gift when I moved out to Bahrain last May. Filled with all sorts of photos from my childhood until as recent as they could find.
Moving to Bahrain, I was limited with what I could bring with me. Limited is a bit of an understatement – it was literally a 30kg suitcase and whatever else I could blag in hand luggage.
Having lived in England my whole life and not moved around at all, a couple of houses, I accumulated a fair amount of stuff. Everything from little knick-knacks to photos and more. All of that got left behind.
So there’s very little here for me to feel nostalgic about. (Though feeling a certain amount of impending nostalgia about my new life here in Bahrain.) Everything’s still very new. Then I saw that photo album that they put together for me. While I don’t remember the top photo getting taken, I do remember that bike my brother’s on and the tricycle I’m on. I didn’t really think I was all that nostalgic, but there’s a lot of comfort in looking back and just enjoying that nostalgia for a little bit.