LOUISE: Making Memories
Yesterday, I ran out of cleansing cream. Not a major problem except that I was out of town and had no idea where to find a Mary Kay consultant so I ran to Walgreens and grabbed a jar of Pond’s Cold Cream. Wow, how long since I used cold cream? I wonder how a facial cleanser got such a name. When I opened the jar and spread the cream on my face, my senses were immediately assaulted by its fragrance. Suddenly, I was ten years old and my grandmother was tucking me into bed at her house. I could smell her sweet aroma as she kissed me goodnight.
Every summer when I was growing up, my brother Jimmy and I would spend a week with our grandparents in Quinton, Oklahoma, where we roamed the small town streets and played with neighborhood children till dark. And every afternoon, Granddad would grab his hat and say, “Come on, children. Let’s go get the mail.” Jimmy and I trailed along behind him and marveled at the little glass boxes with dials at the post office. So unlike our rural mailbox along a dirt road. Granddad would introduce us to his friends playing do