In my home I have two giant conch shells. One, my Omama and Opapa gave me many years ago. The other I brought home from the Bahamas. I’d found it on the ocean floor, an empty shell, devoid of any inhabitant. I polished it up to a creamy pink. Now it lives alongside my other ocean treasures.
Sometimes my children and I listen to it. We hold it to our ears and wait for the echoes of crashing waves, pounding surf. It’s one of my favorite things to do, not because of the sounds we hear, but because of the wonder that fills my kids eyes when they hear it. Then, we reminisce of our trips to the sea. Building sand castles. Swimming in the salty water. Riding the waves. This is what I love the shells for. The memories they dredge up, cementing them in our minds.
Last night I went to a Journey concert (hence the late post…sorry!). As the music washed over me, it swept me back to my youth. To times when I danced arm in arm with friends. To when my sister and I sang at the top of our lungs as we drove down the highway. Slow dances with boys. The thrill of taping my favorite song when in finally came on the radio.
The amphitheatre was crammed full of fans, mostly forty-somethings, screaming and singing, waving our arms, reliving the highlights of our youth. Lost in emotion. I loved it. We all did.
What smells or sounds bring back potent memories for you? What do you do to treasure them?