Scents... and sensibility
Here's the funny thing:
I didn't want any of Mom's clothes, but I took a pair of jeans and a cuddly sweatshirt.
Glad I did.
And I didn't want any of her toiletries, but because there's little chance of there being a whole lot of sentimental value attached to them, I brought some of those home, too, just to get them out of Dad's way.
This morning, the very last of my solid deodorant fell out of the container, and I had to throw it away. It had been one of Mom's. I'm sure of it because I usually get unscented; she did not.
I smiled to myself because I just know someday I'm gonna catch a whiff of that particular scent of underarm deodorant and think of my Mom... but by then, I'll have no idea why.
Heh.
4 comments:
Funny how these things come back to you - you'll catch that whiff and later remember why...
I followed a man around the grocery store because he was wearing the same scent my dad use to wear. I loved the warm feeling it gave me.
That made me smile. And think of Chanel No. 5.
When my grandma died, my grandpa asked if I wanted some soap in her brand, saying it was "women's soap" and he had no use for it. I agreed to taking it before I saw the quantity; grandma had been one to stock up on things when they were on sale, and there were fifty bars of Ivory Soap. It was years before I used up all of that soap! But I still think of her whenever I see Ivory.
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