A Memory’s Scent

Today’s writing prompt from WordPress’s The Daily Post is The Power of Touch.  However, I have never had a memory come to me from touching anything.  I like soft fabrics, but it’s not about what it reminds me of, it’s a comfort thing.  With me it has always been the power of smell that has rocketed me backwards through time to another place.

There is a guy in our building that wears Drakkar Noir.  I know when he has been in the elevator by the scent he leaves behind.  Every time I smell the remnants of his cologne I close my eyes and I can see an old boyfriend of mines, as plain as if he were standing in front of me.  He was killed in a motorcycle accident in Okinawa, Japan many many years ago.  To this day, when I smell that cologne, I think of him.

The smell of Ivory soap makes me nauseated.  Memories of my Grandmother washing my mouth out with soap for telling the truth.  Even back then I had a problem with my filter lol.

Listerine is another scent that reminds me of my Grandmother.  I hate Listerine.

The smell of carnations remind me of my Aunt Helen’s funeral.  All funerals really, but mainly hers.  It’s a horribly sad smell that sparks memories of loss and misery.  I love the smell of  flowers, but not carnations.  They bring with them a burden I’d rather forget.

When I smell fish, I think about my cousin’s mother standing over the corner sink in their kitchen cleaning the fish that her husband caught that day.  I still don’t like fish, but I do like the memory.  They were the family I wish I had.  I spent a lot of time in that house growing up. 🙂  Makes me sad that we’ve all lost touch after all these years.

The smell of Downey’s April Fresh reminds me of my cousin.  She’d do laundry and she’d put so much of that stuff in her clothing that it was practically slick lol.  But they smelled so good coming out of the dryer.

It is the sense of smell and not touch that sparks memory in me.  What sense sparks memory in you?

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I'm a Mother, a Military Wife, a Student, a Blogger, and an Amateur Photographer. I may wear many hats, but deep down I'm still me.

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