The Scent She Wore

Tomorrow I am going to go to Target. And I plan to buy a big plastic container that I have avoided buying for over a year. It's not a special container and it has no significance to me. However, what will go in it does, and it is something I have been unable to write much about at all this whole past year.

But, tonight, I am thinking about this. So, tonight, I will try to write just some of my feelings down to help me try to heal. I cannot say if this blog will ever see another entry about this, or if my heart will open up and pour all the memories out that it has held in so tightly this past year--memories I try not to remember, but pray will never go away.

It was a year and almost two months ago that my grandmother, known only as "Granna" to me, passed away. And, it has taken me a year to process and realize the magnitude of this loss. I could not do that at the time. I was 8-months pregnant and refused to let myself really feel that special soul that left my life. I pushed it away and tried to not think about the things I was feeling. How alone, how abandoned, and how completely fortunate I was to have had this dear person in my life for all the years that I did.

I will not write in here about my Granna's character. I will save that for another time. I will just say that, looking back I really think she is a very big reason I am the person that I am today. She had enormous influence on my life and I thank God for that.

Just one month after she died, my precious little girl came into the world. And she came into the world with an undeniably adorable personality and a stubborn streak just as strong. And, I get chills now thinking about that description, because that describes my Granna perfectly.

My parents came to see us, the week after I had my daughter. When they came, they brought some of my Granna's things that she had wanted me to have, along with some other things of hers that my Mom thought I'd like. Among these were items of clothing that my Mom either thought I could wear or that I might just like to have of my grandmother's because it would remind me of her.

I still remember carrying these clothes back to my bedroom. They were in a bag that smelled like cigarette smoke. Everything in my parents house smells of cigarette smoke and it drives me crazy. I was exhausted that day. When you have your second child, people seem to expect you to bounce back so much more quickly. I must admit, even I expected that of myself. I was trying to be hostess to my folks, when really I just wanted to sleep and then sleep some more.

So, I took the things back to my bedroom, and opened the smoky-smelling bag up to see what was inside. My Mom had mentioned some "house coats/dresses" that Granna had that I might want as nightgowns. My grandmother was 5'2. I am 5'8. So, I was sitting there thinking, yeah this is really going to fit and, even if by some miracle it does, why WOULD I take to wearing a moo-moo around my house--as if my t-shirt/nightshirts aren't unsexy enough for my poor husband?

That's when it happened. As I opened the bag, the most amazing waft of scent hit me. I breathed it in fully. It was a wonderful mix of floral perfume and laundry detergent, perhaps with a little touch of Aquanet hairspray and her lipstick. It was my Granna's smell. Oh, my God. And, it was all around me.

As I sit here typing this, I am starting to cry. The memory of her beautiful smell that always cloaked anything she had worn, and even the seats in her car, was just to much for me then. I hysterically started crying. I had not grieved for my Granna. Sure, I cried at the funeral and with my family. But, I didn't think. I could not think about this loss when I was pregnant. Then, after I had my daughter, I pushed it away because I could find a lot of excuses not to feel it.

But, that night, as her beautiful scent enveloped me in my tears, I could not suppress the heartache I felt in her absence. This beautiful woman who taught me so much about independence, pride in your accomplishments, and love of family was gone. She was gone forever and I would never have her back.

I am a little ashamed of what I did next. I could not take this feeling of loss at this point. I was entirely too "post-partum" to handle it. So, I grabbed the clothes and ran to the back of my closet and I threw them to the very top shelf.

After a very long cry to myself, I went out to talk to my Mom. I told her about how the clothes still smelled like Granna. She said, "I know, sweetie. Isn't it WONDERFUL?"

I could not speak, until I blurted out, "NO! It is NOT wonderful!" And I left again to cry.

Tonight, I was looking for something in my closet. I looked up and saw them there. I have allowed myself to feel her loss in little increments over the past year. Christmas was especially difficult for me, because she was so much a part of that holiday. I think of her when I see rose bushes or hear old church hymns that she used to play in my Sunday School class when she was the pianist. I cry occasionally, but mostly I reflect. I realize that this is the person who will never be replaced in my life by anyone. No one could ever fill her shoes.

And, on my daughter's first birthday a few weeks ago, I felt a moment of sadness. My Granna never met my little girl. But, oh, she would have loved her so much. I see signs of my Granna every day in her mischievous and sassy nature. Sometimes I like to think that a part of Granna's very soul may be in my baby girl. Maybe that is God's way of giving a piece of Granna back to me, so I can make it--without feeling so alone in the world now that she's gone.

Tomorrow, I am going to go to Target and buy a container. And I will climb up to the top shelf and get her clothes down to pack them up. And I will pray to God that I can still smell the flowers just one more time.