When I heard the news that the "love locks" on the Pont de Arts bridge in Paris were being taken down, I suddenly got the old Salem cigarette jingle stuck in my head.
"You can take Salem out of the country but... you can't take the country out of Salem."
I haven't seen the ad in more than 40 years but the catchy tune still pops in my mind and reminds of scenes of my youth.
I knew smoking was bad so I understood why they needed to stop airing the ads but I loved that commercial.
When it played, I used to dance around our small family room singing along, "You can take Salem out of the country...
but," and on cue,
a play on words, I would pop my hip out, freeze and wait for my family to laugh.
They never disappointed me.
My father was a Salem smoker and the memory of that commercial reminds me of him sitting in his chair having conversations with my grandfather on Sunday afternoons.
I can picture the way he sat with one leg crossed over the other with his elbow on the arm rest holding his Salem up in the air.
Just as the Salem ads disappeared, so now have the locks on the Paris bridge.
City officials realized the weight of the locks, a reported 45 tons, was endangering the integrity of the bridge.
And, just as I had understood the removal of the cigarette ads, I understand the Paris officials need to take down the locks for safety's sake.
However, like my special memories of that Salem jingle, they can never take away the memorable experiences I had on that bridge.
Two years ago, I visited Paris for the first time with my daughter. It was the mother-daughter trip of a lifetime.
After the grueling overnight flight and some difficulty getting out of the airport, we finally arrived in our hotel room.
She unpacked a yellow, padded envelope and handed it to me.
"Dad asked me to give this to you, " she said.
I reached inside and pulled out a beautiful hand-painted lock. Carefully written in red, were the words, "BT LOVES NT" and "SOULMATE" meticulously printed next to the key. It was a complete surprise.
He had decorated it with pink and purple heart stickers on one side and a red, dazzling heart on the other.
Along with the lock was a hand-written, heart-felt card. The kind of love note any girl would want to get from her fella.
My daughter and I both teared up.
We waited for the perfect sunny day to place the lock on the bridge.
We painstakingly searched for just the right spot for the lock. We admired it for a long time and took pictures from every angle.
On our last day in the city, we walked back to the Pont de Arts to visit the sweet lock one more time but just looking at it wasn't enough.
She insisted that I kiss the lock for a photo opportunity.
I felt ridiculous as I stooped to kiss the lock. I felt even more ridiculous when I lost my footing and toppled over.
We laughed until we cried at the embarrassing spectacle.
I feel incredibly fortunate that I returned to Paris with my husband later that year. I couldn't wait to visit the bridge.
As we slowly walked across the bridge searching for our lock, he surprisingly spotted it first.
The pretty, hand painted lock that he had made especially for me wasn't shiny and new anymore.
However, it looked solid and well-loved with at least five other smaller "love locks" attached to it.
Now, like the old Salem ads, my lock has disappeared forever but the memories of love, laughter and tears on the Pont de Arts bridge are forever mine.
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You can take down my love lock on the Pont de Arts bridge but...
you can't take away all my memories!
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