Fall is in the air. I am at the park with my girls and for the second time the bear runs at me, arms wide, smile wide, for a hug. The first one had been quick but as I held her the second time I was transported 25 years into my past.
Far back enough to a time when it didn't matter what I was wearing, how much I weighed, the amount in my bank account or any other joy stealing or time consuming problem. To a time when your one best friend was enough. When you played hard and fast, fast enough that you could out run the sound of your moms voice calling you in for a bath.
This all happened simply because, as I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her in and buried my face into her neck, I smelled my childhood. The smell of what it is to be a kid. That clean, fresh smell you can only get from being outside.
I want to bottle this smell so that it can be taken out when being a mother, a spouse, an adult weighs too heavy on me. Until this can happen, I will pick up the bear when I need her, bury my face in her neck and take a deep breath.
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