Nostalgie FM

I have been feeling rather old this week. Or perhaps not old, more nostalgic.

It all started when we went to visit my grandmother, Mamie Jacqueline. She lives in a house in Surgeres, around 30 minutes' drive from the Ile de Re, where she has lived, to my knowledge, ever since my own mother was a little girl. Her house has seen most of my Christmases, a lot of my summers, and it's always a pleasure to go and reminisce there when I visit.

But this time, everywhere I looked, all I could see was the past - the dried up grass where my late Papi's tomatoes and strawberries used to grow; the dishevelled tool shed which used to be forbidden to me as a child; the rusting laundry line to which post my brother and cousin once tied me for a whole afternoon... Instead of feeling warm at the thought of all the memories I have, as I usually do, I felt sad and, well, nostalgic is the best word for it, I suppose.

And the feeling has stayed with me ever since. Walking on the harbour front in St Martin, all I can see is the ghost of my 18-year-old self, hanging out with my cousins on the terrasses, feeling very adult. Everywhere I go, I feel the shadow of my past self lurking just over my shoulders.

I don't know whether this has something to do with having a child myself now, or whether it's because my 30th birthday is just around the corner, but it's quite frustrating to have the feeling that I used to mock in my own parents.

When we used to watch the videos of me as a little girl, my parents always used to be depressed. And I used to think they were silly, and that they should be happy to have recorded such great memories. But now I feel the same as they did. In fact, we watched those same videos on this trip, and all I could think was "where did the time go? how did my life go by so fast?!"

My life isn't over, I know. But now it feels like I need to leave the floor to my baby, and it's Oscar's time to make memories. Thankfully his memories will make up a big chunk of my own. It's just a new chapter about to start, even though I'm finding it hard to let go of the page I have to turn for it to begin.