On Furnaces, Falls, and Childhood Memories…

Ah, the momentary musty aroma of the furnace turning on for the first time in the Fall, after its long rest through the Spring and Summer…

It lasts only a minute or two, but each year that familiar fragrance transports me instantly back in time to my childhood home and warm memories of my mom, an angel who, though gone is not forgotten, and my brother, a hero and mentor whom I love unendingly and without condition.

And, I am, once again, reminded of how very thankful I am for a family and a childhood that was, perfectly imperfect.

I simply love the Fall.

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