Sentimental seems to be a word full of meaning, but it really is not. It means you attach emotional importance to something that otherwise has no meaning. Like the wooden spoon I have, that belonged to my aunt. It has “sentimental” value, but otherwise is a bit of singed, blackened wood that is intrinsically worthless. Why do we try to attach meaning where there is none, and ignore meaning when it has value?
Sentimental means looking back and only seeing the good things; as with the movie Gone with the Wind. I love the film, but I watch with caution, because sentimentality fogs the truth in insidious ways.
In fact, sentimentality sucks. I have great memories and I hope, not many sentimental ones. I remember people as they really were, I hope, and times as they really were. They were good and important. Or difficult and important.
The good is good. The bad is bad. The parts in between are what they are. But romanticizing and longing for something that never really existed is a futile exercise.
Maybe I’m just in a bad mood today.