No man ever said, “I used to play ball on a field that was here–I think it was here. There was a stream at its far end, and a ball hit into it on the fly was a home run. I can’t imagine where any stream would be now. But I am glad, glad indeed, that it no longer exists. I am glad that there’s a tangle of highways here. I am glad that the slender blade of grass is now a mile-broad clover leaf. That’s progress.” Even if he understands that the highway had to be built, he is not glad of the loss. I have never met a single person who was happy that the school he attended, the church where he worshiped, or the old house where he grew up is now dust. It is natural for man to long for home. It is not natural for him to knock out its posts and feed its beams to termites.
Anthony Esolen, Nostalgia : Going Home in a Homeless World
When I first read this quote I liked it. But the more I thought about it the more I realized it was not true for everyone. (I wrote about the selfish nature of nostalgia in Believe Me: The Evangelical Road to Donald Trump).
Recall this scene from Forrest Gump: