One and one and one is three
Got to be good looking 'cause he's so hard to see
Come together, right now
Over me
It's been a few months now, but I remember the first time clearly.
"Do you smell potatoes?" she asked, standing by the bistro's serving table, looking perplexed.
The table, always dressed in a cloth, maybe Russian linen or a rough colorful throw rug, features a tiered glass etagere which displays coupes and flutes, but sometimes party pastries and such.
She described the smell of potatoes in their raw state, not baked or fried; simply raw.
I knew before shaking my head that the odd and very striking waft was meant for her and only her.
Scents which arrive unexpectedly and seem to surround us, are by many thought to be one of the classic signs you might receive following a loved one's passing.
It was not an early sign for me but it did begin one day as I walked beside that very serving table, struck with the overwhelming smell of cookies. It was not of bread or pastry, but distinctively of rich, vanilla scented cookies about to come out of an oven.
Why cookies?
Perhaps her receiving potatoes is not so odd though, they being the very thing we, alone the first time, shared at the bistro. I had put her to work peeling several when she arrived suspiciously early to the small dinner I'd planned.
This strong scent of potatoes followed her to the hotel at our recent weekend getaway, and the sweetest scent of cookies greeted us both when we returned a few days later, stepping into the tiny entrance of the bistro.
That shared moment, standing together and inhaling an undeniable yet unseen force, inexplicably feels there's three of us in the room.
I expect to be smelling potatoes myself very soon...
Come Together
The Beatles/Lennon-McCartney
