The Muscles Remember

Posted: August 20, 2014 in Uncategorized
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Things have been a bit better lately. I’ve heard things I need to hear, seen things I need to see. Now, it’s only a matter of time, of asking the muscles to reset, to accept new programming. When you’re with someone for years, a lot of little things become associated with that person, and so you’ll find yourself remembering unexpectedly. Sometimes these events are like encountering little emotional land mines, and sometimes they don’t really even sting.

I was just chopping garlic. I’ve chopped garlic plenty of times over the years in various contexts (after all, my heritage is, among other things, Italian), but apparently the association is still strong; the best times I’ve had chopping garlic must have been with him. In fact, I can see myself in third-person point of view, standing next to the counter, knife poised for the task, and I’m laughing at something he said. He’s making homemade pizza, and I’m helping.

I couldn’t tell you how long it’s been since I last had that pizza, but I can still remember the sensation of biting into a piece fresh from the oven — starting with the crust when the cheese was still too hot — and the unique, slightly spicy taste of the homemade sauce he would make in large batches.

Man, that was good pizza.


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