For the majority of my life, aromas have been a powerful memory engine for me too. Having lost the acuteness of my sense of smell has left me more than a little sad at times. As I read, the presence of your dad and your life with your dad was so real, I could “smell” the cloves. Thank you for bringing that joy to my day.
Thank you for a heart-warming and sometimes humorous portrait of your father. I had to chuckle at the image of the horseshoe crab hanging over the side of the pot. Now, I'm going to get up and go into the kitchen, open my container of cloves, and take a deep breath.
I love this piece. Especially as a fellow foodie and lover of cloves. They say memory persists through scenr, so what a smart thing that you kept your father‘s jar of clothes to smell.
Thank you! I can't say I had the foresight, but yes, for me and probably many, smells (plus the music I loved as a teenager) bring memories whooshing back. Too bad we don't have "smell" prompts!
What a vivid, spicy story this is. I can hear your father calling you and your sister to meals and smell all the spices he must have been saturated with--including the spices of affection and care. He sounds like the kind of person we could all use a lot more of these days. Given the high anxiety that current politics arouse in me, I might adopt his mantra as mine: Don't stew! Do! Thank you for writing this!
I love this so much. To be aware of his imperfections and yet have this memory of how he knew what you needed in that moment and did what he could to give it to you.
There’s so much we can do! We can stand up, show up, speak out, resist, call our reps and voice our requests/demands, and, as Baba Ram Dass would say, love each other and work to ease all suffering. ❤️
This is so gorgeous. I love a story that ignites the sense of smell and the cloves left their lingering potent mark on this one. I was so impressed by the father’s lust for life and so stunned by the line where she reveals that he died 50 years ago. It all felt so fresh.
Wonderful!
💓
What sweet, wonderful memories.
❤️❤️❤️
For the majority of my life, aromas have been a powerful memory engine for me too. Having lost the acuteness of my sense of smell has left me more than a little sad at times. As I read, the presence of your dad and your life with your dad was so real, I could “smell” the cloves. Thank you for bringing that joy to my day.
Love this 💓
Thank you for a heart-warming and sometimes humorous portrait of your father. I had to chuckle at the image of the horseshoe crab hanging over the side of the pot. Now, I'm going to get up and go into the kitchen, open my container of cloves, and take a deep breath.
Perfect ❤️
Attuned to vulnerability and savory spices. What we need in abundance in times like these. Thank you.
Yes! ❤️
Very touching.
Thank you for reading 💓
Thank you, Elizabeth. What sweet memories of your father. He had a beautiful heart.
❤️❤️❤️
What a great remembrance of your father. I could smell cloves as I read it. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for reading 💓
I love this piece. Especially as a fellow foodie and lover of cloves. They say memory persists through scenr, so what a smart thing that you kept your father‘s jar of clothes to smell.
Yes, so powerful ❤️
Thank you! I can't say I had the foresight, but yes, for me and probably many, smells (plus the music I loved as a teenager) bring memories whooshing back. Too bad we don't have "smell" prompts!
What a vivid, spicy story this is. I can hear your father calling you and your sister to meals and smell all the spices he must have been saturated with--including the spices of affection and care. He sounds like the kind of person we could all use a lot more of these days. Given the high anxiety that current politics arouse in me, I might adopt his mantra as mine: Don't stew! Do! Thank you for writing this!
Yes, good advice ❤️❤️❤️
Yes! And if only we knew what to do!
I love this so much. To be aware of his imperfections and yet have this memory of how he knew what you needed in that moment and did what he could to give it to you.
💓💓💓
You're exactly right! My father was a complicated man, and sometimes difficult man, and I appreciate that you could see that. Thank you.
Oh, this is so well written. A complete portrait of a father in about 600 words? Divine.
There’s so much we can do! We can stand up, show up, speak out, resist, call our reps and voice our requests/demands, and, as Baba Ram Dass would say, love each other and work to ease all suffering. ❤️
This is so gorgeous. I love a story that ignites the sense of smell and the cloves left their lingering potent mark on this one. I was so impressed by the father’s lust for life and so stunned by the line where she reveals that he died 50 years ago. It all felt so fresh.
Thank you!!
What a beautiful story of your father. I love the smell of cloves as we used them to decorate fruit at Christmas time. Thank you for sharing!