My Secret Love for Old Board Games

I've been thinking about this a lot lately. It's funny how sometimes the things we're most embarrassed about are also the ones that bring us the closest to who we truly are. You see, I've always had this thing for old board games, like, really old. I mean, we're talking about my grandfather's collection from when he was a kid back in the 1950s and '60s. These aren't just your average Monopoly or Clue sets; they're vintage editions with stories of their own. I've been borrowing them whenever I visit, claiming that it’s because of nostalgia for my childhood visits to his house. In reality, though, these games offer me something more, an escape into a simpler time when life felt less complicated and the future wasn't so daunting. But every single time he asks if there's anything specific I'd like to borrow or have as a reminder of those days, I end up saying no. I know it sounds silly to feel guilty about enjoying something that makes me happy. Yet here I am, feeling like an idiot for not having the guts to ask him outright and treasure these memories properly. Perhaps deep down, part of my reluctance stems from knowing this collection represents a piece of his life too, full of experiences he'd rather keep private but can't quite shake off either. So while I continue to bask in the nostalgia and joy that these games bring me whenever I get to hold them, I'm left wondering about all those moments I could've shared with him. Maybe it's time for a change; maybe it’s okay to ask for what makes you happy without worrying too much about appearances.