It makes my morning when, after 12 hours of physical work turning and lifting patients, running from one patient room to another completing tasks, and hot-flashing like clock-work every two hours the night before, a patient compliments my fragrance. But nothing is more satisfying that having my grandchildren connect a certain scent with me, and identify it as “Nana’s smell.”
I wear fragrance oils that mix with my body’s chemistry and stay with me until I wash it off. It’s much better than perfume, which never seems to last longer than it takes to go outside, head to work, and work for just a few hours. With fragrance oils, I never need a refresher, and even though I can’t smell the fragrance after I’ve rubbed it on my skin, my grandchildren can.
One day I’ll be gone. My grandchildren won’t be able to hear my voice on the telephone, or send me a text message. We won’t be able reminisce about summertime trips to the Ripley’s Believe It or Not, the Washington Zoo, or the Baltimore Aquarium. They won’t be able to come over to my house to visit. But hopefully my scent will linger: in the crochet blankets I’ll gift to them, or when they’re going about their daily lives. At some point I hope they’ll still say …
“… that’s Nana’s smell.”
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