Like Coming Home

My grandparents house always had a distinctive, sort of clean laundry smell. Today that sweet fragrance punched me right in the face. I cried. Within seconds of scent recognition, without even a conscious thought; I just lost it. Tears were burning my eyes and it felt like saying goodbye all over again.

I put on my sunglasses and took a few deep breaths. “Come here honey, I have to put sunblock on you!”, I hollered at Ez.

A few hours of splashing in turquoise water.

Club sandwiches and glass bottled soda.

Giggles and splashes.

Cannonballs and races to the deep end.

I felt it all… soaking up each bit.

But occasionally my mind kept darting back to my own childhood. That smell. That’s all it took to bring years long gone right to the sparkling surface.

Do you ever wonder what your children will remember about you? What will spark a memory? What, perhaps on some average May day, will bring the strongest wave of emotion to your grandchild? What sweet smell will make the years rise up in their chest?

I called to Ezra, “Time to come in… the storm is here!”. And even as the sky grew darker and the rain began to fall on my face it felt like calm. It felt like coming in the front door for a big hug. It felt like hearing, “Hi Emmy!”. It felt like coming home.

Like a sweet reminder of hope eternal that rain fell. With open arms I welcomed it.

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