And. . . well you get the picture.
Once again, the smartest man on Earth was right. January has come and nearly gone in what seems like the blink of an eye. Over the last three weeks, I have been so very busy with everything in my life that I've rarely had time to stop and really smell the roses. Which leads me to the point of this post: our senses.
The sense of smell, for instance, is a more powerful sense than you would think. Yes, there are some things in life that smell really good -- like my mom's chicken divan as it is brought from the oven. There are also some things that smell really, really bad -- like -- well, I won't go there. But smells can do much more than make us hungry, or gag. They can bring back memories so powerful that it's like stepping back in time. This morning is a prime example of what I'm talking about. I took a shower in the downstairs shower as our new bath needs some minor repairs. I washed my hair with a bottle of shampoo that I used many years ago. When I started to lather up, I remembered the smell of that very shampoo that made me throw up in many mornings when I was pregnant with Goose. I dreaded showering for the first 16 weeks of my pregnancy with her, the reaction was so bad (and not just to the shampoo - everything made me sick - the hot water; the smell of the soap; the mere fact that I was alive; etc.) The scent was so powerful this morning that I was overcome by nausea -- and I don't think it's because the shampoo was old. I remembered that horrific morning sickness like it was yesterday.
Earlier this week, I was missing my son badly because I didn't see him very much due to my teaching schedule; out of town business trips; etc. When I got home late one night, I saw a pair of his pajamas lying on the floor -- these jammies:
I immediately picked them up and breathed in the scent of my boy. Again, the sense of smell was overpowering in a way that made my heart hurt because I missed him so very much.
I am also overwhelmed sometimes by the sense of touch. I pray that I never forget what my son's head feels like on my lips as I kiss it about 1000 times before he goes to sleep. Or the softness of my daughter's cheeks as I press mine to hers each night during our "goodnights" at bedtime. It's amazing what a little touch can do to comfort those around us. Whether it's a firm handshake, a pat on the back, an all encompassing embrace, or a gentle stroke of the cheek. The act of physical touching is incredibly important -like holding your spouse's hand to let him know how much you love him.
I am in a weakened state due to a terrible cold and have been reminded of just how important the sense of hearing is. I had to fly to Miami for a deposition in Key Largo this week. I learned that you should never ever ever ever ever fly with any sort of congestion. The pain of descending was nearly unbearable -- I honestly thought I was going to have to drive straight from the Miami airport to the closest ER because I thought my eardrums were going to burst and my brains were going to explode from my head. OK. Maybe that's a big melodramatic, but it's only a slight exaggeration. It hurt like hell. And ever since, I haven't been able to hear. My ears are stopped up, and except for when they occasionally start popping, it sounds as if I am hearing everything around me through sound reducing headphones.
Last week, before I was in my weakened state, I received a phone call from an old boyfriend. Actually, it wasn't just any old "old boyfriend," it was Charles -- my very first love. The boy I dated throughout high school. The boy I went to prom with.
The boy who made me swoon when he was on the baseball field.
The boy I completely gave my heart away to at the age of 16. I was sure I was going to marry him.
Until he shattered my heart.
Anyways, Charles called me last week. Out of the blue - while I was at the office. I haven't talked to Charles on the telephone in nearly 20 years. I am sad to admit that I didn't recognize his voice. Once he identified himself, however, the memories came flooding back. All of a sudden, I was this 9th grade girl who would talk to him for hours and hours and hours on the phone.
Yes, the sense of sound is a powerful one indeed.
The sense of taste, likewise, can be incredibly powerful. I recently smoked a cigar while sipping bourbon with a friend and colleague. The taste of a good cigar reminds me of so many good times.
I hesitated before posting this photograph because it identifies me as a Kappa Delta. . . and I'm obviously smoking a cigar in the photo. But then I remembered the "Standards" we had to live by -- we were allowed to smoke in our sorority, as long as we were under a shelter and had our legs crossed. I look perfectly dignified in this photo (well, relatively so) and I am hopeful that my sisters will not try to strip me of my letters for posting it.
Finally, I am overwhelmed at times by the things that I see. Here is a shot I took in Key Largo with my iPhone on Thursday at sunset.
It was breathtaking. Sadly, this is the extent of my experience with the beauty of the Key. I literally stepped out of my rental car, walked briskly into the building where the deposition was being held (as I was, as always, fashionably late), and walked briskly back to my rental car. It was then that I turned around to see this sunset. I kicked off my heels and walked to the edge of the water (which was literally feet from where I was sitting all day at the deposition) and took this photograph. And this one:
And, before I raced back to my rental car so I could drive back to the airport to catch my 10:30 p.m. flight home that would allow me to crawl in my bed around 1:30 a.m., I took a moment.
A moment to stop.
A moment to smell the roses.
And a moment to give thanks for beautiful sunsets, among other things.
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