convert-jpg-to-pdf.net_2014-05-16_00-43-47.pdf May. 2014 | Page 9

My Pawpaw owns an Auto-body shop that is literally in the backyard of their house, and as a result, every time he would come in, he’d stink of oil and sweat, and as disgusting as it sounds, any time I smell that unique odor now, I still think of my Pawpaw sitting in his recliner, watching old western movies on the gigantic television they have in their living room. I also had a dog, named Missy who was literally my companion. From my birth, she would always sleep under my crib at night, and I can still remember running my hands all through her thick, Sheltie fur in shades of white and brown and trying to ride her like a pony (she hated that). Probably the most vivid memories I have of my childhood are the smells. I remember the savory aroma of the white wine my Granny would put in her marinara sauce, and the smell of sizzling bacon and sausage mixed with syrup on weekends when we’d have pancakes. I wouldn’t trade my memories of growing up there for the world.