Senses

Oddly, my principal's office has a slight scent that reminds me of my Aunt Sandy's house.  I can't describe the smell to anyone at all, but whenever I go in there to make copies for class, I feel safe.  I feel connected to home and my family.  I feel the way I feel before going up North to see relatives.  It is crazy how our different senses work to remind us of different things.  I smell certain scents and I am instantly taken to the kitchen with my mother.  I hear certain songs and I am at a concert with my sister, singing in the car headed to Houston, or dancing at a club with my friends.  I see different landscapes and I can quietly hear the trees of Texas calling me home.  These things remind me that although I am very far from home, I am closer than I think.  No, I cannot go home on the weekends to see my mother and father.  No, I cannot easily drive to town and buy almond flour to make a delicious g-free treat that refreshes me physically and emotionally, but I can step outside and see the similarities within my two worlds.  They are far and few between, but they are there.  In the depths and in the small cracks, they are there.