Day 99

"Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant mines hidden under the weedy mass of years." Diane Ackerman

As I sit down to write this, I must remind myself that I am not telling a story with this blog. My tendency would be to start from the beginning and move forward to now. "I am grateful for the gift of life, my parents, my family, my childhood, my schooling, etc...." And I am. For all of it. But this project is more about being right here, right now, and appreciating all that is around us. Of course those things will come up here. There are parts of me dying to shout my gratitude for so many things from my past.  For they have made me who I am. They have brought me here. But all in due time. I just don't want this course to be plotted and planned ahead of time like so many other aspects of my life. So I will let the inspiration come to me...and today...my nose is fighting to be in the front of the line.

Day 99: I am grateful for my sense of smell. Yup.

My nose is connected directly to my heart. A certain smell can wash over me and flood my heart with feeling and my eyes with tears. A smell can take you somewhere. To a different place or time. To a kitchen back in 1988 or to a field in 1994. It can bring back people or moments that we have long forgotten It can fill a gap or open an old wound. 

I should tell you that as I write this , my house of filled with the smell of sautéing onions and garlic. 

I love the smells of the South. Specifically the food, of course. I love making the foods I grew up with. I try to fit them in our weekly meals once in a while because every time I do, my kitchen fills with the scent of home. And I am transported to my Mama's kitchen. Chicken fried steak on the stove, Wheel of Fortune on the TV. Everyone hollering for everyone else to come to the table. My Mama and Daddy are there. My Bubba and my Lala (brother and sister), so young and probably fighting because Brian was giving her crap for liking D....well....I won't say his name. ;-) And the entire scene underscored my the smell of Mama's country fried steak...probably peas, potatoes, sweet tea. 

You know the feeling I'm talking about. Like fresh cut grass or the way pavement smells after a rain. It just stops you in your tracks. And whatever responsibilities or worries you had at that point in time fade into the background. And you have just a small perfect moment...of peace. 

But my favorite smells? People smells. I know...not all of them are hunky dory, but the ones that hit you, they hit you square in the heart. It happened to me at the grocery store a few months ago. I was in the cheese aisle trying to find the best deal for a quality goat cheese and all of a sudden....My Mother was there. Some short, curly headed, brunette woman that looks nothing like my mom breezed by wearing Windsong. Sing it with me, y'all..."Your Windsong stays on my miiiiiiiiind!" Windsong is my Mama's signature smell. She's worn it ever since I can remember. My earliest memories are of my mother's arms, head on her chest, swimming in that smell. That is just the way she smells. And I love it. I wanted to hug that woman in the cheese aisle right then and there. But I didn't. I just stood there. And held on to that feeling so tightly for just a moment. Then wiped my eyes, smiled, and threw the goat cheese into our cart. But for just one beautiful moment, I was at Kroger with my mom. I was with her. Thanks nose. You kind of rule.

Then...and nothing compares... there's the smell of the person you love. Come on ladies...you know you've done it. You're doing laundry and for just a second before you toss his t-shirt into the wash, you hold it up.. and just breathe. You know that in about an hour that old Steve Miller t-shirt is going to come out smelling like a fresh spring breeze or island tropics or like the fluffy cotton towels that you love to bury your face in right when they come out of the dryer. And those are all wonderful smells! But right then, before it goes in, it smells like him. 

And there are smells that I long for but can't quite seem to find anymore. For years, my brother's black UGA hat carried his smell. I loved it. Whenever I missed him, I could pick up that hat and catch a little whiff. It calmed me. It brought him back for a moment. I never washed that hat, wanting to hold on to its scent for as long as I could. But unfortunately the smell faded, as smells are apt to do, over time. But, like I said, my nose is connected to my heart. And if I close my eyes and hold that hat to my nose, I swear my heart remembers how it smells. 

I am grateful for my sense of smell....and this little strange protrusion in the middle of my face. It can take me to people and places that I long for. It can wrap me in sweet nostalgia. And it can bring me peace. If even for a moment. 

I've begun to stop and smell the roses...yes, literally...on the walk from my gate to my door every afternoon. A perfectly still moment I get to enjoy each and every day. And I am grateful.

Try to take a moment today or tomorrow. When you hold a loved one, breath them in. Try not to do it in a creepy way. ;-) Really take in your morning coffee, notice the scent of the air when you leave for your lunch break, or just go outside right now and find out what the air is carrying. Or where it can carry you.