I really, really dislike smelling like food.

Although my wife will jokingly tell me I “look delicious” from time to time, it’s not normally one of my Life Goals to manifest an aura of hash browns and French toast.  And it’s impossible to dine at the Sunrise Cafe in Meridian, Idaho and escape without aromatic evidence of your whereabouts.

But the lingering scents of Sunrise sausage transport me to a time in my life where God infused me with much-needed perspective.  I took a hiatus from graduate school and hung out with kids, most of whom had significant Special Needs. And Sunrise Cafe was the favorite restaurant of my buddy Moses.

Moses was on the autism spectrum and had severe epilepsy.  We would cruise around in my Hyundai hatchback and rock out to mixtapes of Barney and Mr. Rogers. For better or for worse, every local public library knew our names…and most weeks we were able to narrowly avoid having our privileges revoked!

And if we were making good progress on our “Life Goals,” I would treat him to a feast at Sunrise Cafe. And he would order sausage patties, sausage links, sausage chunks…and an ENTIRE BOWL of ranch dressing poured into a vessel typically reserved for steel cut oats.

The Biochem nerd in me wonders if Moses physiologically craved this unusual fare given the ketogenic diet’s efficacy in suppressing seizure activity. But regardless, I’m pretty sure that there are still ranch-streaked souvenir stains on the seats at Sunrise that, at least for me, elicit a smile rather than repulsion.

Sometimes nostalgia smells like sausage. Sometimes Ranch-flavored rejuvenation can give you a taste of eternal perspective. And sometimes you learn the most profound life lessons from friends like Moses. See you in Heaven, buddy.

1 Corinthians 1:26-31