Peeling back time

Staff writer Grace Tally recalls her childhood memories.

Staff writer Grace Tally recalls her childhood memories.

Grace Tally, Writer

My Granny always told me you could always find my dad by following the trail of orange peels that were behind him. These oranges not only helped me find my strangely shy father, but sprouted conversations during awkward moments and formed memories that now live in the back of my mind.

Now when I smell the nostalgic fruit, I can remember sitting on the porch swing, picking at the peeling blue paint, listening to the creaking of the rusted chains and watching the water bugs race in long strides across the deep, murky pond. I never realized oranges could have such a huge impact on my life.

Never do I remember a day of not walking outside through the thick fog early in the mornings to select the biggest fruit out of the five trees. Their peels would litter the ground all around me in every direction I looked. The tart taste would make my mouth water and my hands would smell like citrus for days. Even so, I never got tired of them.

I would wait for the days when new blossoms would form, and the small, lime-looking orbs would slowly shift from their rich green slowly turning to yellow, then finishing with a vibrant orange. Now that I am older, I want to remember the memories that are in the back of my mind more than ever. I can remember staying up late and laughing so hard I could hardly breathe, then walking into the kitchen and grabbing the bag of oranges to share with my sisters.

When I feel this way, I can take a short walk to the small orange tree that is in my yard. It will never compare to the old ones, but as I select my orange I am reminded of old times. The memories slowly come back to me and I find myself as happy as I was during those times, finding my dad at the end of the orange line – his smile just as happy to see me as I was to him, feeling the cold air on night walks and  wishing I could never leave the secluded bubble. I know that I cannot fully relive the time that I had and that one day I might forget most of my sweet memories. But, I do hope that as long as I smell oranges, my memories will always come back to me.