What's "nostAglia", Mums?
"NostAglia … ?" Oh, you mean
"Nostalgia", Son, let me see …
How can I explain it to you, this "nostAglia",
(As good a word for it as any!)
Well … Darling …
"NostAglia", is that funny pit-of-the-tummy feeling
You get
Going down in elevators
Only you're not in an elevator -
It just comes.
Everything sort of goes away from you,
And you feel a little scared
And a lot lonely …
It's like this
Remember Tippy … the little brown dog …
And how we loved him;
And how he ran just a little ahead of you,
Just a little too fast
And you, chasing him on your tricycle …
And the curb came,
And you stopped,
And Tip, didn't
And he just lay there,
And the look was gone out of his eyes
And we tucked him away in a brown bean carton
Under the apple tree
And the house was awfully quiet without him,
That was "nostalgia".
***
And remember when we did the Plays,
And you were Wakefield in the Jalna one,
And we used to prop up your lines over the basin in the bathroom,
And you learned them while you brushed your teeth;
And you followed me round the kitchen
While I made peanut butter cookies
And took the part of Renny
At the same time …
And it was pretty exciting
And mixed up, and very wonderful …
And the smell of make-up, remember that?
And the keen edge of being treated like a grownup…
And the first taste of applause
And the feeling of "power"
When you nip't your cue
Right on the nose;
And then it was all over
And there weren't any more rehearsals,
And all the excitement was quenched
And school seemed uncommonly dull
And one night you went back to the theatre
To get your little riding boots,
And it was deserted and dusty.
But that lovely smell of make-up
Still lingered in the dressing-room;
And you stood there for a minute
With one boot in your hand
And let it just "roll" over you …
The Play … the lights … the fun …
And then you gave yourself a little shake
And picked up the other boot … and felt … well …
That was "nostaglia"!
***
And then … remember the time in the Union Station
And we'd been down to Gammie's together
Because Daddy was there … on Last Leave …
And he'd met us at the train,
And taken you to the Mess
And you'd seen the Bunk, where he slept,
And played a game of Darts,
And had a Coke with him in the Canteen,
And gone to a Movie
And felt very proud when we came out
Because your father looked so impressive in his uniform.
And because we'd agreed there'd be no fuss,
No tears … no last good-byes …
Daddy had just said,
"So long, Sport … I'll see you in the Funny Papers …"
But for once
It wasn't funny.
And you were still holding the little metal disc in your hand
Daddy had stamped out for you
With your name on it.
And you didn't seem to want to put it out of your hand
Not even in your pocket;
And you looked at me across a great, black gap…
And even I couldn't fix it … this time …
And that was "nostalgia"!
"Toujours Gai"
For Jamie, of the R.A.F.
"He has outsoared the shadow of our night".
***
Bravely he kept his tryst with Death -
Who somehow knew it would come to pass -
But he tipped his cap at a rakish slant,
And he gave himself a smile, in the glass.
If his hand was clenched, there was none to see,
If his heart was sore for the home he missed,
And the eager face of his dearest love
And her flying hair … and the lips he'd kissed.
He had made for himself, from a little phrase
A shield and a buckler to save the day -
And the little phrase was a bit of himself,
And he laughed when he said it, - "Toujours gai!"