Smell and memory

October 31st

A woman walked by me in the street today. I caught a whiff of her perfume. That was enough to trigger a very short but extremely vivid memory. Memory? Remembrance? Reminiscence? No, I think that was a lot more powerful than just those words that describe a storage and recollection function of the brain. I felt like I went back in time, just for a second —

I was in our apartment, by ours I mean Jola’s and mine. That had to be in the late 1990s, since we were in this shitty apartment on MacArthur Avenue in Lodi, New Jersey, which is a shitty part of a shitty town in a shitty state. I am kidding a little here — New Jersey’s great, if you have money, but we didn’t have any then. All we had was ourselves. I think we were married already then. It was on a Saturday, in the Fall, when the sun doesn’t go up that high but still is strong enough to feel its safe warmth on the skin. I think we were just finished cleaning the apartment, and we were getting ready for grocery shopping. Windows were wide open, drapes and blinds were fluttering in the breezy draft. Jola was in another room talking on the phone with somebody. I was standing at the window, looking over the empty street. It was so blissful; I felt a powerful and overwhelming feeling of calmness and surety of my life. It was so strong I felt like I wanted to cry with happiness.

And just like that, I was back on the street walking. I had to stop and just take the couple of deep breaths to collect myself. I looked back. That woman was only a couple of meters behind, so all that happened within a second or so. Suddenly, I felt dizzy; I had to slow my walk and gather my thoughts and try to compose myself. I felt like I was going to cry, but this time because of the blunt sadness — I heard Jola’s voice in my head during that split second when I went back in time. And I realized that the black hole that I have in my soul since Jola died crept back into my consciousness. I miss her, and even though it has been 6 years since she died, I still love her. And no, I am still not ok when I remember her.