There are certain things in life that I love. Usually these things are accompanied by certain senses. Smell is the most memorable sense, so they say. I must agree.
I can close my eyes and picture my grandfathers yard that he took so many hours taking care of. The smell of fresh cut grass, tree trimmings, and the smell of fresh water being sprayed on the newly manicured yard.
I can smell my grandmothers beautiful flower garden. There is such a specific smell to her flower garden that I wish, oh I wish so badly that I could bottle that smell up to keep. It is a smell of spring, the smell of earth and of blooming flowers, that I am blessed with every now and again that makes me think she is just reaching out to say hello. Oh how I miss that garden and my grandparents.
I can pick my mothers smell out with blind folds on. It is the same smell she’s had since I was young. Was it the trend of the fragrance by Gloria Vanderbilt or is it just the sweet smell of my mother? Either way my mom has a smell that can’t be mistaken and I miss it when she leaves my home after staying a few days.
I can say that Abby gave me a great gift today as we were getting ready for a dance rehearsal of hers. After getting ready she asked if she could wear some perfume to smell nice. I glanced over at my small collection of fragrances and just pulled out the old stand by. I gave her a quick spray and walked away to finish getting ready. She came to me and said “I smell like Sunday morning. I smell like you mom.”
Could it be? Do I have a smell that my daughter associates with me? If she closes her eyes will she picture my face and the distinctive smell she has in her memory of me? I guess so. I hope so.
I am her mom, I have a smell and now she has a memory.
