In life, there are certain smells that trigger memories in our brains. And every time I open the microwave door, my stepfather wafts out at me. I’m instantly transported back to over a decade ago; sitting next to him at his desk, talking about the latest computer games, and munching on sunflower seeds and gummy bears.
I still miss him. I wonder what he would have thought of my son. I wonder if he’d have been proud of the man that I became. I wonder if he’d have transitioned over to consoles instead of computers to play his games. But unfortunately, I can’t ever know that. He was taken from me before I was ready. But at least I can remember him every time I open my microwave.
