I've heard that the sense of smell is the most primal of all the senses. Going back to the very beginnings of our beginnings. I know smells are powerful memory makers.
There are smells in my life that are constants, either reminding me of people or places or things. Estée is my mom. I love hugging her hello and smelling the cloud of Estée around her. Many times I've purchased Estée for her, in one form or another, whether lotion or powder or perfume, to perpetuate the security and love associated with that cloud.
My older sister was a unique blend of Youth Dew and cigarette smoke. I'm not much for Youth Dew on its own, and who likes the smell of cigarette smoke? But the 2 together, ahhh! Made me smile and breathe deep. It was my sister. That's a smell I'll probably not smell again, since she is gone and it was a unique combination.
White shoulders is a long time Friend. She's worn it since we were in high school, I think, and I never smell it, at a perfume counter or out in public somewhere, without thinking of her.
Hubs wears Halston Z, I think. I don't remember the name, I just know the bottle. And the smell. That smell says he is mine and I am his. It's speaks of history and shared experiences and love.
Perfume is purposeful. The manufacturers work very hard at catching your brain through your nose. But there are other smells. Onions and garlic sautéing in olive oil equals "hope you're hungry!" Pancakes cooking in bacon grease is Pops. Fresh from the oven bread fills the primal "ah, my belly is full!" need. You know, that whole "bread is life" thing. Well, it is for me!
Other smells, a family one, A&D ointment. I know, empirically, that fish oil and vitamins is not a pleasant smell, but for me, the smell of A&D means comfort. It's the relief for the chapped nose of a cold, the ahhh of a scab being soothed from the pull of healing, the comfort of the covering of dry hands or feet or elbow or lips. It also always stirs feeling of love. I now put on my own A&D, but as a kid, it was the gentle hand of love that smeared the comfort.
Pine resin is mountain rest for me. Camping, hiking, sitting in a lounge chair watching a Yellow Bellied Sapsucker fledge from its nest in the hollow of a tree. Campfire smoke is S'mores and guitar music accompanied by voices, meaningful (or silly) conversation and engagements. The smell of horses is the Stock Show and the barns and rabbits and clowns and rodeo. Childhood discovery.
Before my first child was born, I actually thought about, for quite a while, and made a conscious decision about, which baby lotion I wanted to use on my children. There were really only 2, Johnson's and Baby Magic. It never occurred to me to use a non-baby lotion. Probably a good thing, or the decision process might have been agonizing. Anyway, I remember being in a store, in the baby aisle and going back and forth, between the bottles of Johnson's and Baby Magic baby lotion trying to decide. Johnson's was the most popular at the time, I like the smell, it brought to mind visions of babes in arms. Baby Magic was different, almost a little spicy. That was my choice, I didn't want my babies to smell like everyone else's babies, so I chose the less popular, little bit spicy, scent of Baby Magic...and that was all I used. Every day. On both of my kids. Marking them with a perfumed baby lotion that tied them to me in just one more way. When I headed to the hospital to have my second child, I took a cloth diaper that my daughter used as a lovey and smeared it with Baby Magic. Even as I anticipated the birth of the coming child, I knew it would be a while, maybe even a whole day, (gasp!) before I would see my baby, my little girl, again, and I wanted to take a piece of her with me to the hospital, her lovey with her smell.
A few years ago, my Sister-in-Law, my best friend, walked in my house, took a deep breath and said, "Ahh, your house smells like you!" Really? I wasn't cooking. I didn't have candle burning. I hadn't just taken a shower. Really? I asked her what the smell was. Was it my hair spray, my favorite potpourri, the cleaning supplies I use on my sink? She said it was none of these, or maybe all of them. She recognized my house, because it smelled like me. All that is me.
I never fully understood that until yesterday. Yesterday, I walked in my daughter's house to play with her dogs for a minute while I had a break in my day. She's been gone for five months, now. And her house no longer smells like her. Was it the shower gel she used? One of several perfumes she liked? Was it the cologne her husband used when he would take her out, to dinner or a friend's wedding? Her various lotions, always appropriate to the season? Was it the candle scents she preferred? Was it the cleaning products I used to keep her house safe for her? Was it the usual meals I cooked, like grilled cheese, or Mac and Cheese, that she could and would eat in those many months of treatments? I think it was all of those things. And because she is gone, those magical combinations of smells that mark her and her space as my daughter are gone.
I knew I missed seeing her face. I knew I missed feeling a hug. I knew I missed hearing her voice. I did not know that when I walked in her house, and it didn't smell like her anymore, that I would cry.
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