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I remember when I was about eight years old, and went to go visit my grandmother in Washington. She was one of the most beautiful people that was ever in my life, but the one thing that always brings her to mind, and the time during the summer I went to visit her is the warm smell of honeysuckle. In the room that I stayed in, which had been my mom's when she was young, there was a huge honeysuckle bush that grew right outside the window. During the long summer nights, when all you heard was a distant train going by, and crickets chirping in the nearby field, the warm summer air would get thick with the perfume of the bush, always seeming to lull me to sleep. In the mornings, the sun would dry the dew off of the yellowish blooms, and renew the sweet scent so that it was fresh and bright when I woke up. The beauty of those memories always reminds me of how special the time that I spent with my grandmother was. She died a year ago, and I have been thinking of her lately. At her service, she was absolutely lovely. Her hair and make up was perfectly in place, as it always was, and she had a cute sweater wrapped around her, as if she was just taking a quick nap, and then going to go out. It's amazing to me how remembering a scent of a flower can bring back so much about a person. I miss you Grama.

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