The fragrance reminded me of when I’d visit my mom as an adult. I’d enter the cool of my bedroom and the first scent that came to me was the soft sweetness of peonies from her garden. She always had a bouquet of her own flowers in a simple vase carefully placed beside the bed.

I can feel the room even now. Cool and enticingly fresh. Clean.

The memory comes to me every single time I put one of my own peonies into a vase.

We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.

Cesare Pavese

5 thoughts on “memory”

  1. Flowers and mothers just seem to go together. Mine loved zinnias – and always I think of her with those bright, cheerful colors.

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