Smells of Nostalgia

I was catapulted back to my childhood as I tried to listen intently to the nice older gentleman who I was waiting on. My mind however was back in my Michigan house and I was hugging my daddy as he was all dressed up and smelling clean and wonderful. It was of course Old Spice, and it was reserved for special occasions. Meanwhile I saw this customer’s lips moving, but wasn’t really listening to a word he said. I hadn’t smelled that aftershave in years and I was in a nostalgic space that I wanted to preserve.

Later that day at home I noticed a USA Snapshot in my USA Today newspaper, listing the scents that evoke the strongest sense of happiness. Old Spice wasn’t in there, but I could sure identify with the three that were listed. Number one was baking bread. Oh, what a special occasion it was when my mother would make homemade bread. It was maybe twice a year, and usually a surprise. I would run from the bus into the house, and that aroma would have filled every room. The happy molecules were running rampant.

Clean laundry was the second most happy smell. This takes me to a summer day in our yard as I would play in between the big white sheets hanging on the line. There is no smell that even slightly approximates that.

The salty smell of the seashore was number three. One of the reasons I always wanted to live here was so I could smell that glorious aroma anytime I wanted to. I have spent lazy days on Captiva marveling at the turquoise beauty of the gulf and inhaling that smell that seems to just cleanse the entire body. Feet in the sand brings a connection to mother earth that I believe renews the body and spirit.

I have two friends who share the great love of the smell of lilacs with me. All Floridians,  the beautiful purple flowers send us back to our Northern homes with this fragrant harbinger of spring and the impending summer. Conversely, lilacs made my mother sad because they filled her girlhood home on the day of her sister’s funeral.

I know that many people don’t like the smell of carnations because they permeate most funeral homes. I however love that smell. I was five years old and opened the refrigerator early one Saturday morning and saw a beautiful flower in it. I picked it up and put it to my nose and couldn’t believe how wonderful it smelled. It was the boutonniere my brother had worn to the prom the night before. That is where that smell takes me to this day.

There was never a time that everything was more right with the world than on mornings when I would awake to the smell of bacon cooking while a summer breeze fluttered my sheer bedroom curtains. I knew my mother and maybe my dad and brother were all up and sitting at the kitchen table, ready for breakfast, after which a summer day of freedom stretched before us.

There are just so many evocative smells that bring back such happy memories: Leather reminds me of the excitement I felt when I opened the box with my very first suede coat that my daddy had surprised me with. Jergens lotion takes me back to my one-room school where the teacher bought all the girls little bottles one Christmas. I can’t pass by a plumeria/frangipani bush without picking a blossom which transports me back to the happy times my husband and I spent in Hawaii. Avon’s moisture cream was my mother’s body smell, as was the perfume My Sin on her special occasions. I confess that I can’t smell those smells now without getting teary. Those previously happy smells are now tinged with loss and grief.

With martinis so in the mainstream right now, I can’t stand the smell of gin. You see, my forays into underage drinking in my senior year involved the then popular Tom Collins. A night of misery and vomiting ended that love affair. I’m guessing you boomers might have a similar story from your teen years.

When I stepped out of the airport in 1991 and inhaled a deep lung full of moist Southwest Florida air and saw palm trees, I knew this was home. I count myself as a very fortunate person today to breathe in that indescribable aroma and revel in the warmth of this beautiful place. All I have to do is open the sliding doors.

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