Scented Senses: Memories of my Grandma

**Please visit my friend Octamom's post:  Morning Musings ... Aroma Memory**

My maternal grandmother visited us back east nearly every year once my parents were divorced.  It was generally a three week trip, as airfares in the early 80s went down after extended stays.  She'd sleep on a cot in my room, and I loved having that temporary roommate.

Grandma had a square yellow make-up case, resembling a small hard-case suit case which would now be a nightmare with the FAA.  With her purse, it comprised her carry-on luggage, and I am positive she would have been quite reluctant to check it.  Inside the case, a tray on top removed to reveal larger items stored beneath.  The case contained make-up, creams, lotions, powders, toothbrush and paste, a shower cap, hair-rollers, pins, and aerosol spray, all neatly and precisely organized.  This box encapsulated the scent of Grandma.  It magnified it, even.  And every morning and evening I would sit in the bathroom and watch Grandma make her toilette, methodically using every item in that case, often do-do-doing (Grandma's answer to humming) to her reflection in the medicine cabinet door.

I can't conjure that scent out of nothing, but I'd always been quite certain that I'd recognize it the moment I smelled it.  But I'd never run across it.  Even other elderly ladies of my acquaintance never quite smell like my Grandma.  

I have a hard time with blushes.  I prefer light-colored shades, but those rarely match my skin-tone very well.  There was a Mary Kay color that I loved, but it was, of course, discontinued.  I have yet to find a good replacement.  Then this past fall, I found a color that looked like it would be a match.  It was a Cover Girl Cheekers in Natural Shimmer.  I was disappointed.  In the color, that is.  I have kept it, however, because it smells like my Grandma's make-up.  I think that if I bought a can of AquaNet that I could fairly reproduce the scent of the entire case.  As it is some mornings I open the little grey container, inhale, and transport myself to her arms, my small nose and lips against her soft, powdery cheek.

Grandma will have been gone for 8 years next month, and she'd been taken from us in some ways years before that.  In reality I spent a fair amount of time with a Grandma who lived 3,000 miles away, and the time was generally fun and comforting.  She was a blessing.  And until the day that I can once again throw my arms about her, I may have to be content to remember that smell, and remember her love.