The Loving Sense of Scents in Memories
Film clip: The Parent Trap (1961) Walt Disney Productions
I’ve written so often about memories. Memories give me so much comfort, even when accompanied by tears. They sustain me yet they do not hold me back because they let me know that I have the power to hold them dear while reaching for new memories. I love this clip from “The Parent Trap,” when Susan/Sharon meets her grandfather for the first time (unbeknownst to him). I’ve written about it before (click here for that post). I guess it especially tugs at my heartstrings because I was so close to my grandma and my great-aunts and great-uncles.
I had an experience over the weekend that made me think of this clip and the memories conjured by scents. I cooked dinner for a good friend who is recuperating from surgery. I have not really cooked since my dad died back in February of 2014. Shortly after that, Ben began to struggle with eating. Yes, I made dinners. I cooked chicken that I pureed with all sorts of sauces and mashed potatoes for Ben. We did have many laughs about my Vitamix concoctions. But, once Ben could no longer chew with ease, I stopped cooking the meals he loved but could no longer enjoy.
When my friend asked if I could help her by preparing some meals, I decided to cook one of the meals my dad and Ben loved- Greek shrimp with home-made tomato sauce and feta cheese (from Jane Brody’s seafood cookbook). As I walked to Fairway for ingredients, I felt overwhelmingly sad. As I’ve written before, firsts are always hard. It didn’t occur to me to think of cooking in this way, but it was a first. I always miss Ben when I go grocery shopping. It’s those little things that are unexpectedly difficult and therefore, unpredictably emotional. They leave me feeling lonely and alone. I tried to comfort myself with the memories of our adventures in cooking, when I would find a new recipe, or try one of my own, and it would be delicious. I would always cook enough for us, to bring to my dad, and with leftovers for all. I committed to making this meal and just had to get through this first time.
As I began to sauté the garlic and shallots, I remembered how much Ben loved that smell. He always laughed and said it made him hungry and I joked that I didn’t even have to add anything else. His presence at that moment was so strong. I could vividly picture him smiling. I missed him. It was not the same to cook without him, and it was not the same to cook that meal for anyone other than Ben and my dad. I don’t actually think I could have done this cooking soon after the loss of Ben. Now, after two years, I can broaden my perspective to feel sad yet also consoled by the memories that keep Ben and my dad (and mom and grandma) close to me.
I’m pleased that my friend was very happy with the meal. Ben and my dad would have been proud. I think that I will always think of them when I make that dish and other ones that we all loved. I will always picture Ben’s smile when I sauté garlic with other herbs and vegetables. In one way, it will probably always make me sad. But, I hope that I will also look up and smile, as I did last weekend, as I remember the good times and take pleasure in sharing those memories of Ben while creating new memories with other special people in my life.
2011- This is one of my very favorite pictures of Ben because he was so full of happiness and laughter.