Hubby remembers meals we've had, here and there, the mules frites in Nice, the crab in Bandon. His memory is connected to his olfactory gland, strong smells that bring back looks and tastes of a whole day.
I remember single scenes, the time at Moulin Rouge in Paris when a young girl in our tour bus traveling with her aunt, attending an evening performance was chosen to go on stage. On the way back to our bus I noticed she did not have a camera or a souvenir program for that evening and gave her the one I had.
When we meet our children we spend so much time clarifying who was where and what happened when, and each of us brings something else to the scene. Some of us will remember faces; some will remember places; some will remember conversations; and some will remember food and drinks.
I took this picture of my husband in Bandon, next to Cathedral Rock, on a day when we walked for miles, and ended up eating crab sandwiches at Tony's Crab Shack. It graces the cover of my memoir, and it connects me with everything I've ever loved, my family, beaches, good food, and the longing for the past to be caught again in a still life. Notice that he's taking pictures too.
One day, when I've lost my memory, I hope I remember what great times these were.
