Olfactory memory /edited

Source: geomonkey.wordpress (Cigarette Girl)

Growing up as a child in my house, the smell of cigarette smoke would always linger in the air whenever Dad's around. Which is rare, he worked outstation alot and every night before bed I'd sit with mom and made a countdown of how many days until he comes home.

Whenever I smell someone puffin' up the good ol' Marlboro lights, it takes me back to the days when I was 5 and the only thing I looked forward to at the end of the day was seeing Dad.

I've only fond memories of Dad as a child. There are sour ones but you don't hold on to the bad ones when you're 5 and the worst thing that could happen to you was falling down and scraping your knee. Even then you look forward to putting on this adorable Sesame Street band aid.

There's something very comforting about the smell of Marlboro seeped into crisp fresh linen. Was never drawn to dad's signature Polo for Men (the emerald bottled one with the gold cap. Looks like a whiskey flask). I preferred the Marlboro. I remember burying my face into his shirt when he picked me up because it smelled like, him. The person who brings back surprise kit kats and a bag pack full of treats after a hard day's work. I'd call him up about 5 times a days every time something went a little out of control and I'll always have this conviction that it'll all be alright again as long as he was around. As long as I could get him on the phone. Everything will be incredible. Which is the main reason why I hate the lady who tells you you can't reach the person on the other line. And so I look forward into breathing in tobacco on his office shirt everyday.

Dad's smoking habit was probably one of the main reason why my asthma had escalated from a child to a teenager. Even with the abundant inhalers and nebuchadnezzar (the oxygen mask thing, I really hadn't bothered to know what the name really is). But I didn't mind the medications. I loved how he smelled though my mom would put it as "reeking" with tar, it was a scent I was fond of.

I grew up recognizing the scent as that of my father.

Don't get me wrong, second-hand smoking is bad, very bad.
But some bad things are good things when you take away their medical side effects in the end.

It's like a diabetic having his cake and not knowing the first thing about diabetes.

This is over the top, we've changed.