Smells
I wrote this awhile ago but I like it.
Mint. Dan hated mint. I love mint. He hated it so much that
he wouldn’t kiss me if I had eaten anything with mint. He hated mint so much
that he would use children’s fruity toothpaste. Mint mochas are one of my
favorites, and he hated them. But it wouldn’t stop him from bringing me one
home from Starbucks when I was having a hard day. It didn’t stop him from
making me a homemade one and bringing it to me as I cuddled our daughter on the
couch. I haven’t had a mint mocha since he died. They don’t appeal to me
anymore.
Eggs. Dan loved eggs. He would eat eggs every single
morning. If we ran out of eggs it was a
travesty in our house. We bought chickens for the soul purpose of him being
able to have fresh eggs. I remember when I was pregnant and had terrible
morning sickness and was very sensitive to smells. One day he made eggs just
like he always did, except all of a sudden I couldn’t stand the smell and I
started yelling at him “get that out of here. I am going to throw up get those
out of here right now” He looked at me perplexed but obeyed and took himself
and his eggs outside and stood at the window staring at me as he shoveled eggs
into his mouth and I couldn’t help but laugh cause he just looked so ridiculous
standing outside in the cold eating eggs and staring at me through the window.
I don’t make eggs everyday anymore (it takes too much energy to make eggs, I am
ridiculous), but occasionally I do. And that scene always replays in my mind
when I do.
Steam. Steam from the bathroom. Dan was a morning person and
I was not. He would always get up before me. He loved taking very very very hot
showers. I would usually wake up to the smell of hot steam coming out of the
bathroom. A flood of steam would envelope me when I would open the bathroom
door to say good morning. Steam.
Perfume. Not his perfume he didn’t wear any. My perfume. The
perfume that I wore in high school. The perfume I had on when he fell in love
with me. The perfume I wore on our wedding day. He loved it when I put on that
perfume. I can feel his lips on my neck, smelling that perfume on me. Some time
ago they stopped making that sent, and thus I didn’t wear it anymore. Last
Christmas he somehow tracked down a bottle of it and bought it for me. What a
flood of memories of our young love when I sprayed that perfume. I only had the
chance to wear it a couple times before he died. And now I have a bottle of
perfume that I will never wear again. I may spray it to remember. O how I wish
he were here to smell it on me.
Lotion. Not just any lotion. Ahava lotion. In 2006 we took a
lifetime dream trip to the holy land. Isreal. The smells there where so
intense. So strong. So different from home. So beautiful. Ahava lotion made
from the minerals in the Dead Sea captured the smell of Isreal perfectly. When
we were there we bought several bottles of this lotion to last us. We both
loved the smell. He loved it when I would put it on. I loved it when we laid in
bed and he would put it on me. We of course ran out after awhile and it is
exuberantly expensive in the states so we never bought any more. After he died
I was/am on a mission to capture anything and everything that reminds me of
him. And so I bought the exuberantly expensive lotion and I put it on and I
think of us. I think of all the wonderful memories we had. And I miss him immensely.
I miss him so much
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