I’ve spent the past few days attempting to restore all the photos to my blog that were “lost” in the process of changing servers recently.  I’m about half way finished with this tedious task!  During this long process, I’ve reread many of my old posts.  Thought I would share this one again.  It was originally published on May 7, 2009.  I’m amazed at how our senses can take us back to another time and another place…

The taste of a delicious, hot Southern biscuit reminds me of my Mama’s wonderful cooking.  One bite of homemade banana pudding with the golden brown meringue, I close my eyes…forty three years pass…and I’m home again.

If I get even a slight whiff of the perfume “Windsong” by Prince Matchabelli or of the men’s cologne, “English Leather”, it’s 1966 all over again and I’m a young newlywed.

If I hear the song “Aldi-La”, it’s 1964 and I’m sitting in the coffee shop at Mississippi College (I think it was called “The Wigwam”) with my roommate, Linda, who had just broken up with her boyfriend and we are both in tears.  If the old movie “A Man Called Peter” is playing on the classic movie channel, I think of a Saturday night in 1963 and a young man named Ross.

Sometimes our senses can even play tricks on us.  Not long after my father passed away, I was shopping at the grocery store and saw an elderly gentleman who looked so much like my father, even down to the slight parkinsons tremor and the gait.  I found myself closely following him for two or three aisles in the grocery store…it was almost like looking at my Daddy all over again.  I managed to pull myself together long enough to park the shopping cart and left the store in tears.

Touch.  What can I say?  I’m a hugger.  I come from a long line of huggers.  The human spirit can only go so long without being touched…held…hugged.  There have been dozens of studies on how many hugs a day a human needs.  As a Registered Nurse, I spent many years taking care of patients and made sure I incorporated some form of touch besides the routine care…a pat on the back or arm…a reassuring hug.    Perhaps this is also why the studies have attributed having a pet to a sense of well-being and an overall decrease in blood pressure.

Have you ever noticed how much we learn from our sense of touch?  How many times have we seen something that we’d never seen before and our first response is to want to touch it. Ever notice the sign “Do Not Touch” in a museum or exhibit?

I walk into a fabric store and my senses are overwhelmed with row after row of bolts of fabric…all different colors…patterns…textures.  I’m also overwhelmed with memories of spending time with Mama in a fabric store when I was growing up.  She was an excellent seamstress and made most of my clothes.  We’d spend time together selecting a new pattern and find the fabric for it together.  I did the same thing with my children…and, now, my daughter with hers.  Mama had so many offers to sew for payment, but she reserved those talents for her family.  She told me, “I only sew for love”…years later, after I began the tedious work of sewing for my family, I understood and said the same thing to my family.  Who knew that would come full circle?

4 Comments

  1. Elizabeth

    Do a mapquest and check out Sisters. They have a wonderful outdoor quilt show there every year. Lots of quilt shops in Bend and an absolutely wonderful one in Sisters – Jean Wells and her daughter own it. We have been to Bend and Sisters camping but not during the quilt show. We leave here on the 11th, looks like I am driving the UHaul truck and Jerry will pull a trailer behind my truck with his hotrod. I am just a little nervous. Would love to see your beautiful property in person some day. When we get unpacked I am making your bread!
    Always,
    Liz

  2. Kate (Little Beach Bum)

    Dianne, this is beautiful. I love reading the posts about the stories from your past. You write so descriptively I feel like I can visualize or sense exactly what you are writing about – it’s almost poetic!

    Once I saw a woman in the mall at Christmas-time, she was waiting in line for Santa Claus with her little boy, and she looked SO much like my mom (who died when I was young), even down to the hairstyle that I doubled back so I could walk by again for a closer look. I was SO obvious in staring but didn’t even care. I completely empathize with you about “seeing” your Daddy…its so hard when for a brief second you forget and think it actually is a person who has passed away, and then that flash of reality jolts you back. That letdown is such a horrible feeling. But just think how you are keeping your parents’ memory alive by sharing stories of them with all of us here. 🙂

    I will be back tomorrow to check out everything I have missed in the past few weeks – and apparently also will be reading this “The Stories” collection…how have I never seen this?! I’m looking forward to it!

  3. Brenda

    Enjoyed reading this. Growing up in Memphis also, I think often of shopping trips with her to Parks Beltz and Lowensteins and having to wait two hours while she had her weekly hair appointment. The hairdo would have to last till the next week. But you lost me totally on the fabric store. Mom sewed all the time but it skipped a generation with me. My daughter is just like her. To me it was total torture to go into a fabric store. Mom could stay hours in them. I whined my eyes hurt and I itched all over.

  4. Brenda Ledbetter

    I just strolled down memory lane remembering the times past. Your post jogged my memory and brought tears of joy to be able to remember some of the special times of the past. Awesome!!! I recently had to give up a pet, a cat named Garfield that I was keeping for my son for a while, I was unable to keep him and my son couldn’t keep him anymore either. My awesome vet loved him so much and offered to adopt him, Garfield got a special home and I am so happy for that, but…, I have grieved so much over not having him around anymore and often call to see how he is doing…,he is doing very good of course…, I guess I got use to that special petting a pet brings to a person, I had forgotton how special it is to pet or touch. It does make a difference.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Recommended Articles