Chlorinated Memories

I absolutely love the smell of chlorine.

I could curl my nose up into the bend of my elbow and take a nap there all day after swimming

and dream sweet, nostalgic dreams of my childhood...

...of the thousands of hours I spent in our backyard pool playing Ariel

...of the pretend synchronized swimming competitions we would perform

...of my dad launching me into high black flips to land safely in the water

...of the countless diving meets I sat in the bleachers in support of my brother

...of giving that chlorine-soaked brother a hug after each one

...of the innumerable laps swum at swim team practices

...of the hundreds of water basketball games and subsequently, the nearly as numerous, near-drowning experiences

...of zipping down the water slide forwards, backwards, tummy up, and tummy down

...of laying my towel out on the pool deck and falling asleep in that same bend of my elbow

If I could prolong my shower and savor the sweet aroma of our care-free weekend in Park City and its chlorinated nostalgia for days, I would.

But alas... herbal essences are calling to my straw-dry hair and I must bid the memories adieu.

Until next time dear, sweet chlorine. Until next time.