A photograph or a song can bring back so many memories but, for me, the strongest memories seem to be attached to my sense of smell. Memories of my maternal grandmother come flooding back any time I get a whiff of Shalimar perfume or Clorets gum. She always wore Shalimar and she always had Clorets in her purse. She never took that little box out without offering the square gum to everyone else. I get that warm fuzzy feeling whenever I smell either fragrance but, the combination of the two will bring back the most wonderful memories. I recall her laugh, her tone of voice, and how special she made each of her grandchildren feel when it was our turn to spend the weekend with her.
It might not make sense that wonderful memories are attached to the familiar fragrances that surrounded my NaNa, but painful memories are attached to the fragrances that surrounded my husband. Both are no longer with me. But... things don't always make sense.
A few years after Ron died, I went to visit my in-laws who live on the island where Ron and I lived. As we drove from the airport to the ferry dock, I was absolutly fine as we passed the restaurants that Ron and I enjoyed and the building where we worked together and where we met. But the moment we got close enough to the ferry to smell the salt water and the fish, I fell into the pit! It was as if the familiar smells overwhelmed me and pulled me down.
Even now, eleven years later, certain scents will send me spinning. I have a very hard time going into a hospital or being around anyone who is in their final weeks of their earthly life. I know it is aweful to think about or to mention but... death has a smell. The memory of it lingers and haunts me. It instantly brings back Ron's final weeks and the look of cancer - the look I have tried so hard to forget.
While I dread the memories that are attached to the smells of Ron's final weeks, in some ways they have been a blessing. They bring me back to that place of overwhelming grief and sadness that invaded my heart during the first weeks and months after Ron died. I don't exactly welcome these feelings but God always uses our pain for good if we allow Him to.
Over the past few months I have received numerous emails and prayer requests from others who have recently lost someone very close to them. Because I can so easily recall the smell and bring on the memories, I am able to truly understand their pain and it better equips me to comfort them and pray for them. Does this make me sad? Absolutely. But it also helps me when I am able to comfort someone else. God is not wasting my pain and this actually brings me comfort. It gives my pain a purpose and that encourages me.
Do certain smells bring back memories for you? Good ones or bad ones... I would love to hear from you.
Sweet Blessings,
LeAnn
Friday, August 29, 2008
Scents and Sensibility
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4 comments:
LeAnn,
I can hear your mixed heart. Smells can be very powerful. God does use our pain for good, but we have to be ok with it first. The smell of aqua velva and old spice take me back to my father. Not in a good way. I was abused and I can still smell that alwful mix of cologne and sweat while begging him to get off me.
Not sure if you remember me but I was the one in the red scooter at She Speaks. I have had 11 surgeries because of an assault of a student. I was told Monday that I will have to have one more on the 10th of Sept. There is a smell in hospitals that brings back memories for me. I can not describe it but I know it when I smell it. It frightens me because of past experiences.
On a good note, the smell of fresh cut grass, horses and summer air blended together make me think of my home and summer memories.
God Bless and have a safe Labor Day,
Diane
Oh LeAnn,
So true about smells,good as well as bad. My grandma always had Clorets too, but I had compeletly forgotten that memory until you jostled my mind.
Right now I'm using a shampoo that I started using when I lived in Florida. Before lathering my hair I take a deep whiff and it transports me immediately to some awesome memories.
I think you blog is a wonderful tool in God's hands for all the widows wondering how to fit into this new life. Thank you.
Luanne
Certain smells do bring memories. With my Mom it's "Chicklet" gum and "White Shoulders" perfume. With my Dad it's the smell of baking - sugar cookies, shortbreads, rolls etc... Also, the smell of freshly cut grass brings memories of family and playing outside in the backyard when I was young.
The smell of "Noxzema" brings back memories of swimming lessons. My Mom used to cover me with Noxzema as a sunscreen before each lesson and I was frightened in the water. That scent floods my mind with those fears of childhood.
The sense of smell heightens memories. God calls us to be the fragrance of Christ. I pray that others will remember His aroma from my life.
I just found this blog of yours. I hadn't realized you had lost your husband to cancer. I am so sorry.
Blessings and hugs,
Joy
I've come to you via Renee's. Well, Renee directed me to your other blog but I was intrigued by your profile of "single mom".
I can be swept back ever so quickly by scents. Sometimes, even those unknown. I can smell a cologne that turns my stomach and I imagine it is because it reminds me of an old boyfriend from high school.
The most wonderful smell that comes to my mind is the smell of tobacco. It is wonderful for two reasons. 1) My grandparents had a farm and tobacco barn. 2) When I me my husband in our dating years, we discovered we both love that tobacco smell. The later #2 is both a sweet and bitter memory. Sweet because it reminds me how much me and my beloved have in common and bitter because my beloved chose to be deceived by the enemy and receive a divorce unbiblically. Yet, there is hope b/c I believe that common love of tobacco smell is only one small example of the many reasons God divinely placed us together over four years ago and will prayerfully rejoin us once He brings His child back onto His path.
Oh, I too have seen many a death in a hospital bed and the mere smell of entering a hospital is so uncomfortable. The strange thing is my beloved works in a hospital. I always felt that took courage or rather a defense mechanism to get past that smell.
Blessings,
Paula
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