My roommate and I each bought an Asian-themed bowl while shopping together during my first year in college.
Mine was plastic with a wood pattern outside and a burnt orange surface inside. It measured just 45/8 inches across.
I’ve forgotten the cost. Maybe a dollar. We used our bowls to eat the ramen we heated in our dorm room hot pot. The year was 1978.
My bowl later accompanied me to graduate school and then to early jobs. I kept it after I married and as we moved multiple times. We and our children used it a thousand times, easily.
Then two weeks ago, I found a crack – an L-shaped gash from rim to bottom – and felt … sadness?
No. It was nostalgia, which is different. It’s that state of remembering where sadness and happiness entwine in an homage to the past, a prayer for today and a hope for tomorrow.
It’s a big job for a little dollar bowl, to hold both memories and expectations. I bet it’s up to the task, even when cracked. I think I’ll keep it.
Note: Today’s essay benefited from workshopping assistance from writing students at Louisiana State University.
The Nostalgia Series
It occurred to me while crafting today’s mini essay that I’ve written often here about things lost, broken or worn out, especially recently. I don’t know why my mind goes there so easily. Perhaps a topic for another day. Meanwhile, here are essays in the Nostalgia Series.
Jeff,
Your bowl story, it touched me in a way I didn’t think possible…. but the trigger, WAS the nostalgia of your article. It tugged at a few things, which even brought a tear. I’m so sappy!! Your bowl story reminded me of how my then husband Marv, liked & admired working with you, at the Rockford Register Star, waaaay back when. You were a Rock Star!! 🙂 The simpler days, I guess in a way, when busting your butt journalism, & little life pleasures, meant more. And we were happy.
Thank you for the nostalgia piece, today…. you brought me back to happier times.
Julie A. Clemons
Julie, I’m so glad my little bowl story touched you. And thank you for sharing about Marv. Those were simpler times when reporting and publishing the news fun — and appreciated.
Bring on more nostalgia.
Nice! My first dorm purchase after the subscription to the Kansas City Star was a fan. It was August 1971 and it was hot in Columbia, Mo. Dorms were not air conditioned then. Nor smoke free.