Sunday, August 21, 2005
I do not need to tell my wife about delicious peaches from the orchards near Elfrida, Arizona anymore. The peaches were world class and as a boy it was one of the highlights of the summer visit down to Douglas where my gramma and my aunt Gladys lived.
Gramma died in 80 and Gladys died in 73. The peaches no longer exist thanks to the smoke from the copper smelter that shut down long ago.
We were down in Vancouver, Washington yesterday and we stopped at a small garden shop/market and I smelled what I have not smelled in about 35 years. They say that smell is the most intense trigger of memory and I smelled Elfrida peaches.
We bought some and brought them home. Just a couple of hours ago my wife washed them and I sliced into one and I swear I could see gramma and aunt Gladys and their houses that are right across the alley from each other. The alley where the boogeyman lived at night and I would race thru from aunt Gladys' back door to the safety of the light on gramma's back porch.
When I put the slice in my mouth I could see the living room of gramma's house and the front gate in exact detail. I could see ALL the rooms. The room where I first heard Jimi Hendrix. The back room where gramma stored the rags which she wove into rugs and I played doctor with the neighbor girl. The 10 year-old me stopped by to say hello.
Oh to have those days again.
Gramma died in 80 and Gladys died in 73. The peaches no longer exist thanks to the smoke from the copper smelter that shut down long ago.
We were down in Vancouver, Washington yesterday and we stopped at a small garden shop/market and I smelled what I have not smelled in about 35 years. They say that smell is the most intense trigger of memory and I smelled Elfrida peaches.
We bought some and brought them home. Just a couple of hours ago my wife washed them and I sliced into one and I swear I could see gramma and aunt Gladys and their houses that are right across the alley from each other. The alley where the boogeyman lived at night and I would race thru from aunt Gladys' back door to the safety of the light on gramma's back porch.
When I put the slice in my mouth I could see the living room of gramma's house and the front gate in exact detail. I could see ALL the rooms. The room where I first heard Jimi Hendrix. The back room where gramma stored the rags which she wove into rugs and I played doctor with the neighbor girl. The 10 year-old me stopped by to say hello.
Oh to have those days again.
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