Scented Memory

芬芳的記憶
我喜歡他從花園摘了朵嫣紅山茶花給我的時候；喜歡他用老式唱機播放台語或日本歌謠的時候；喜歡他騎腳踏車帶我出去閒晃兜風的時候；喜歡他用芒果核為我做發條玩具的時候。看完醫生以後，我喜歡他買熱烘烘剛剛出爐的葡萄乾麵包給我，讓我不再嚎啕大哭。我喜歡坐在他的大腿上，聽著他與朋友的閒話家常。還是個小女孩的時候，我喜歡嚷著要他做馬給我騎，或是賴在他身邊，聞聞他身上的味道，碰碰他上了髮蠟的黑髮。

而我最最喜歡的，是在他拿著毛筆寫書法時坐在他旁邊，滿心崇拜的看著他。好幾次的午後黃昏，他盤腿坐在榻榻米上，靠著矮桌練習書法，我則正襟危坐地在旁磨墨，當一個恪盡職守的小書僮。每當他寫完一張宣紙，我就會立刻替他換上新的。我們是一對缺一無二、合作無間的好拍檔。跟他那麼親近，就連那獨特刺鼻的墨汁味也讓我舒暢開懷。

幾年後某個溫柔的夜晚，在京都某間餐廳的木板陽台上獨酌的我，欣賞著遙遠天邊那一輪明月和點點繁星。當我的目光冷不防地飄向清酒瓶上的標籤，那優美的毛筆書法讓我陡然間聞到一股渴望的味道。就在這味道潛入我的嗅覺記憶，緩緩綻放的那一剎那，父親毛筆字跡所散發的芬芳，立即瀰漫空中。

人生的前八年，我們一起度過許多美好的時光。我深愛著他，也唯有隱含著父親的芬芳記憶，才能重新喚起這些往日時光。

Scented Memory
I loved it when he picked a big red camellia for me from the garden, and when he played Taiwanese or Japanese folk songs from the old record player. I loved it when he took me out for a bicycle ride, and when he hand-made winding toys for me from mango seeds. I loved it when he bought me fresh resin buns to stop me crying after a doctor’s visit, and I loved to sit on his lap to listen to his conversation with his friends. When I was a little girl, I loved to ask for a horseback ride or to lie down next to him, to smell his smell, and to touch his waxed black hair.

But what I loved most was sitting by his side and watching with heartfelt admiration as he was writing Chinese calligraphy with a brush. On many a late afternoon, as he sat on the tatami and practiced calligraphy on a low desk, I would grind an ink stick on a grinding stone to prepare ink for him. Each time he filled one sheet of rice paper, I would move the sheet and place a new one in front of him right away. Together we made a good team, and being so close to him, even the peculiar smell of the ink made me happy.

Years later, on a balmy evening on the deck of a restaurant in Kyoto, I was having a drink and gazing at the full moon and the stars. The beautiful calligraphy on the label of the sake bottle caught my eye, and suddenly I smelled the longing. And that first stab of longing came with the scent of my father’s writing.

For the first eight years of my life, we shared many wonderful moments. I loved him dearly, and nothing brings back these moments like my scented memories of our happiness.