There are very few feelings I cherish as much as the rush of nostalgia felt when songs I grew up listening to shuffle their way into my headphones. Memories I hadn't thought of in years, feelings of appreciation I haven't felt in a while, all dash back to me like a headrush filled with images of imaginary stars. As corny as it may sound, nostalgia is a feeling I value as playing an integral part in my development as a person and I have music to thank for reminding me of those feelings.

As "In the Ghetto" by Elvis Presley plays through my headphones, flashes of my mother crying with worries of my older brother staying out late in Chicago fill my mind. The compassionate worry I felt, seeing my mother cry, fills me once again as if I were reliving the very moment I was remembering. Or contrarily, "Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Bublé plays, filling me with warm, happy feelings as I remember when the song came out, sitting in the back of my dad's GMC, singing my heart out with my older sister. Music has the power to not only mentally take me back to nostalgic moments, but to also physically fill me with the very emotions I felt during a developmental moment and memory.

The memories that flash in our mind, whether they make us cry or smile, are pieces of us and who we are. The memory of my mother crying doesn't only make me think of the compassionate worry I felt for her, but also reminds me of the true depth of the care and love my mother feels for my siblings and I. The memory of singing in the car with my sister doesn't just remind me of singing with my sister, but also reminds me of the beautiful, carefree energy my sister and I felt throughout our childhood together.

As I write this, listening to "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gee's, I know that I may one day listen to this very song and remember the smell of roasting coffee in the Starbucks I wrote this article in.