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Chris Fabry
Married to Andrea since 1982. We have 9 children together and none apart. Our dog's name is Tebow.
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Where We Are Now

After finding and remediating mold twice in our Colorado home, we abandoned ship in October 2008. Because of the high levels of exposure, our entire family was affected. After months of seeing different specialists for all of the problems, we came to Arizona to begin comprehensive treatment to rid our bodies of the toxic buildup. In August 2009 we moved into a larger home, four bedrooms, south of Tucson, north of Mexico. I am doing my daily radio program/ writing from that location. Thanks for praying for us. We really feel it.

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Saturday, March 7, 2015
The mind is an amazing thing. It can recall stuff from years ago with just a slightest hint of an aroma.

I had a list of things, tissues, a recycle bin, a movie for my son, stevia packets and various things that totaled $63 by the time I was done. What I didn’t expect was to encounter my father in the dairy aisle.

One of the items on the list was plain yogurt. I checked the stale date and made sure we had time to consume it. Then I headed for the electronics section, passing the end of the candy aisle where there were various gums, mints and treats.

And there it hit me—the mint smell I remembered from childhood.

By LabyrinthX (Peppermints) [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
I drew closer. The whiff of peppermint was unmistakable. And a vision flashed through the synapses. My father in the chair in the corner of the living room. Sitting with his legs crossed. Coat and tie on. He always wore a coat and tie to church. And he always popped one of those peppermint things in his mouth, the round kind with the red swirls in them.

And he smiled and held one out.

As a kid, I really didn’t like the peppermint candy. It was not as exotic as other flavors. To my father, it was all he needed. Fresh breath. A sweet taste.

That was 50 years ago, probably. I remember the smell of peppermint and Sundays. Green Wrigley gum, too, when he didn’t have the mints. And the sound of the wrappers as he opened them.

Sundays are peppermint in my mind. And now you know why.