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Oh, but that smell.
I have a clear memory in my head, my father (a big man) pacing around in the garden, He was talking on the phone and trying to light a cigar (He was on the phone a lot, that’s how it is with business men). Now, you must know... If there was something my father knew better than his own name, it was his cigars. I remember, this brown rolls with a yellow and black label on them, Cohiba was the brand he smoked. I can also remember all the boxes in the house, there were a lot (well, of course there were a lot of boxes, my dad used to smoke fifteen cigars a day) He had three boxes in particular that were special, or so I thought. I used to think he chose to keep his cigars in those three boxes out of some sentiment but now I know those boxes are what they call cigar humidors, which is meant to preserve the cigars (no wonder why he kept them there). Coming home was a whole other experience, there would be this strong smell of tobacco all over the place. Although my father never smoked inside the house (he said it wouldn't be good for his three little girls). But there was this smell , it followed him everywhere, even inside. It wouldn't leave his side. In this memory I see my father as he used to be, I see this big man, with formal clothes (always), suspenders, big moustache, one of those cohiba cuban cigars in his hand and this look he always carries around. Oh, that look... I know it all to well. It is the look of a worried man but at the same time a thinking man (sometimes we can’t tell if he is worried or just thinking). His small downturned blue eyes drift as if he were completely in another planet, his forehead wrinkles and he always puts his right index finger up to his mouth as if he was going to silence someone, but then he doesn’t, he just gets lost in his own thoughts. The same look that always assured me that things were gonna be alright. Now, since my memory time has passed, and with time we leave things behind and yet not forgotten. In my fathers case, I can gladly say he has left behind that big moustache and the tobacco smell he used to carried around everywhere. As for the formal clothes, the suspenders and that thinking face... he still wears them every day.
