AROMA MEMORIES

by Esther B. Heimdahl (my mom)

In a flower shop near our apartment in Paris, the owner had strewn heaps of rose petals all over the floor. As I walked in, the petals shuffled beneath my feet and filled the air with their aroma. I thought of that abundance of petals while bemoaning my lack of lemons and their heady scent. I had opened the refrigerator door to grab a couple of lemons forgetting for a moment that my usual supple of lemons was gone. A neighbor used to share lemons from her tree. She kept me and other neighbors in lemons all year long, but she moved away recently. The lemon bounty has stopped for now. Our friendship started over lemons but grew into a more caring one as time passed. Her move made me think of abundance and scarcity. We so often squander whatever we have in abundance and yearn for that abundance when something is scarce.

Lemons by Martha Heimdahl Slavin

A couple of friends talked of friends of theirs who had either moved recently or passed away. They had been friends who met for coffee, read books together, went on walks, or had the occasional dinner out. With each life change, their abundance of friends started to diminish, and they realized that social media, phone calls, and texts couldn't make up the difference of an in-person friendship that had been a part of their everyday lives. I listened to my friends mourn the loss and realized how much more meaningful my friends have become. When I was younger, we were all so engrossed in our own busy lives that I didn't always make the time to be with friends. Now I think of friends that I know and how we both know each other in ways that can't easily happen from a distance. I thought of my mother's statement when she and I were talking, "Some people take a long time to grow up." She was talking of someone else, but the idea has stuck with me. As I grow older, I continue to learn valuable life lessons.

by Esther B. Heimdahl