I remember

by | Jan 8, 2021 | 2 comments

It’s daunting to remember how many things we forget and of those we remember, how many we wish we wouldn’t.
Consider the wedding day for example – probably the day with the highest concentration of conflicting brain decisions for which memories to keep, crop, enhance, delete or unfriend.
I have a freakish olfactory memory, not easy to leave with if you asked me, helpful though as it is sometimes.

If I want to remember my wedding flowers for example, I have to invoke the scent of rain.
I remember they said “Rain on wedding day brings lasting love and good fortune”.

I remember believing it. I still do. If I were to do it again, I’d order rain in advance, to be sure.

What does this have to do with the wedding flowers? Nothing, other than both telling some white lies I chose to believe and I’m glad I did.

Not my fault if the flowers and the rain were both disappointingly unscented but so strikingly, beautifully convincing about the “living happily ever after” reality. Not my fault if that reality turned out to be that way, though I won’t lie, it’s really hard work to maintain it.

If I want to remember my wedding dress, I have to smell red wine. Not any kind – the Cabernet Sauvignon kind. The one I remember we served for dinner. My father’s favorite.
Which makes me think of Snow White.
And how my wedding dress was Snow Cream.
And I remember thinking – would it be too much to ask for three drops of Cabernet Sauvignon on my Snow Cream dress so I can make a wish to have a daughter whom I promise I wouldn’t call Snow Cream. Wish granted.
It’s probably what I wanted to remember in the first place, because who cares about a wedding dress anyway and all those pretty details – the fine embroidery, thin straps, the A shape, the royal feeling, the smoothness, the creaminess… I swear it was that pretty. The wedding dress.

2 Comments

  1. Michael Owen

    This is so beautifully evocative: “If I want to remember my wedding dress, I have to smell red wine. Not any kind – the Cabernet Sauvignon kind. The one I remember we served for dinner. My father’s favorite.”

  2. Amy McDaniel

    I love the lines, “If I were to do it again, I’d order rain in advance, to be sure” and “…telling some white lies I chose to believe and I’m glad I did.” Both are signature Florina. And the repetition of “not my fault,” with the great difference in magnitude between the two lines that follow (unscented flowers compared to sustained marital happiness).

    I hope you continue this piece for the flowers book!

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