Double the Memories

Yesterday I bought 40 packs of Wrigley's gum to give out to my students who had been ambitious and completed their assignment by the original due date (the date had been extended). I bought two big boxes of 20 packs each. One was Juicy Fruit. One was Doublemint.

Yesterday morning I opened those boxes and dumped the packs of gum into a tub to get ready to hand out to the kids. The Juicy Fruit smelled sweet and delicious. Then I opened the Doublemint gum.

I can't describe to you how that gum smelled. I mean, sure, I can tell you it smelled minty,  like pepper mint. But, what I can't describe to you is what I really smelled.

I smelled my grandmother's kitchen cabinets. Her face powder. Her lip stick. Her hair spray. Her Beautiful perfume. Her clothing. Nylons. I smelled the leather of her purse. I smelled the interior of her Cadillac. I could even smell the Kleenex that were always in her purse. I smelled the Earth in her flower gardens. The smell of the lake. I smelled the old green leather on the glider. The wrought iron furniture on her front porch. I smelled blooming azaleas and roses and tiger lilies. I smelled the moss and wild flowers on the banks where I'd play. I smelled tomatoes, okra, and strawberries from the garden. I smelled old wood and tools from the sheds around their house. I smelled clothes hanging on the line. I smelled the old school house building where I attended Sunday School and the old musty carpet and pews from the old sanctuary. I smelled Baskin Robbins where she and I would hide out while my mom shopped. I smelled the very very old furniture in their formal living room and the inside of the cabinet that held the old record player where I would listen to my mother's old Elvis albums. I smelled Irish Spring soap. I smelled the turkey dinner at Christmas. I smelled sweet tea with lemon in a green glass with sugar in the bottom. I smelled Coca-cola out of cold bottle. The wood of the dock. So many smells wrapped up in that little green pack of gum. I inhaled deeply. I smiled.

You see, Doublemint was my grandmother's favorite chewing gum. She always had some in her purse. She always had some in her kitchen cabinet. It was offered to make the time go by faster when waiting, to hold hungry tummies over until church was over, to get a little mind off the tears that were coming down, to cure an upset tummy from too much car riding. It would cure anything.

Tomorrow it will be three years since I've smelled that smell. Three years since I've seen her hands pull a pack of Doublemint gum out of her purse.

You know, I never really liked Doublemint gum. It was not my favorite flavor. It was actually my least favorite kind. But, yesterday, I smiled as I opened that Doublemint and smelled it. I smiled as my mind flipped through a million memories that included that wonderful smell. I chewed that gum and I don't believe any gum has ever tasted sweeter.

I realized something. I love Doublemint because I love her.

And I'm thankful for Doublemint and all the wonderful memories it carries with it.

And I miss Doublemint.

And I miss her.