mirror ball 62: Proustian fragrances

When I smell ____________ I remember ____________.

Kristine:
When I smell a garden tomato I remember my father.
 
Carolina:

When I smell lavender I remember peace.

I have often used lavender with nervous finger tips to redirect my attention away from anxiety. 

Beth:

When I smell our homemade pizza cooking, I fondly remember my Grandma Quatrano.
 
This has been true for over 45 years now. My earliest memory was being 4 and making pizza and cookies with her at Christmas when she'd visit from across the country - which she did religiously every year for forty years, wherever we lived.

Sadly, she passed away 10 years ago. Now the combination smells of our family pizza, the fir essence of a Christmas-tree, and Pizzelle cookies on the sideboard conjure up her presence, and then bring me to my knees missing the hell out of her. 

Richard:

When I smell an apple, I remember my grandmother.

When I smell a rose, I remember a lover.

When I smell the ocean, I remember the truth.

Chris H:
When I smell peanuts I remember being in the womb.

Lori M:
When I smell dried cow patties out in a field of grass, I remember being 4 and 5 years old hiking in the high Swiss Alps.  When I was 3, the Vietnam War was in full swing, and my dad had just completed is medical school training.  When he called up, he was lucky enough to be given a choice of serving in Vietnam for 1 year or Germany for 3 years.  We moved to Frankfurt, and any chance we had to escape Army base living, we did.  My grandparents, being Austrian, were always more than happy to meet us in the Alps for hiking and skiing adventures.  My most vivid memory from those hikes is the smell of high alpine dried cow dung.  It's strangely pleasant and comforting.  I was always surprised when I actually saw the cows "way up high" as I used to say, with the snowy peaks just behind them.  How did they hike all the way up there?

Dan B:
When I smell "Oil of Olay" I remember my head laying in my mother's lap. We'd be on the green couch watching TV and around 9pm she would moisturize her hands- the waft of her hand creme lulling me to sleep.

Laura Liz:
When I smell jasmine growing, I remember my mom's apartment outside of Chicago. Being spoiled with west coast beauty, she hated the lack of greenery while she was living in the concrete jungle. She bought that plant to make her apartment smell like something living.

Phoebe:
When I smell patchouli oil I remember Pony.
When I smell magnolia flowers I remember the hotel my grandmother stayed at when she visited us when I was about 5 years old.
When I smell gardenia I remember being 13 years old wandering around Hollywood Blvd with my best friend Dale.

Dave W:
Kersti and I were juniors. It was Prom time. I really wanted to ask her to go with me. I was more nervous than I'd ever been in my life. My stomach was gone, my head was swimming, I was in love. I was pitching in a junior varsity baseball game that day and as the game wore on, Kersti magically appeared beside the backstop with her bike. How I finished (and won) the game without losing it (my mind, not the game), I will never know. After the last out was made, I walked Kersti home, passing underneath a canopy of blossoming cherry trees on the way, the early May breeze swirling around us. When we reached her home, I in my baseball uniform and she with her bike, I nervously asked her if she would like to go to the Prom with me. "Yes", she answered, and smiled. I smiled broadly and shyly muttered something, as my body prepared for lift-off. As I walked home that night, I don't remember touching the ground. So now, when I smell the blossoms of Spring, I remember walking Kersti home from school and feeling that beautiful hit of sweet, young love.

Sarah:
When I smell gardenias, I remember my grandma Mary.

Lori F:
When I smell Paris perfume, I remember my mom.