Scent is both our strongest memory trigger, and the weakest of our five senses. Unless you're pregnant, than bloodhounds wish they had your nose.

I don't know how true this is, but the scent of hot cotton reminds me of my youth. Either sun-dried on a line, or fresh from a dryer, that warm tang makes me feel safe and loved.

Citrus is almost as safe to me, and I know exactly where that memory comes from; my mother would peel oranges for me at the kitchen sink, piling the pieces of peel on the back of the sink for... whatever it is mothers use orange peels for, and hand me a slice at a time, saving the baby pieces for last.

I still pile orange peels on the back of the sink, and will press sheets fresh from the dryer against my face.