As I slathered on my favorite perfume, Tresor, I was transported back to the pre-Christmas days when my honey and I were cologne shopping at The Bon (I will call it that forever, regardless of the new Macy's name). We tried many, spritzing, wafting, walking through the scents, smelling coffee beans to refresh our noses (didn't work), spraying little papers...We smelled like a walking parfumerie!
After way too much time, we made a mad dash for fresh air! Ah! Gasp, gasp. And then we had the same thought - Grandma Hill.
Grandma Hill loved makeup, perfumes, and being beautiful. She came by it honestly - being an Avon lady during her earlier years. I used to love getting into her closet. For there - she had an Avon lipstick tower! It was awesome. We could always count on samples and makeup play time from Grandma.
In her later years, Grandma haunted the perfume and makeup counters of local department stores. Peoples. The Bon. Nordstroms. JCPenneys. The ladies all knew Grandma. In fact, they kept special stashes of samples, waiting for her to come in! She "honey"'d them and gushed. And purchased (thought not to Grandpa's delight).
Grandma's house always smelled like her, perfumed to the T. One could locate her by scent. At her funeral, after her granddaughters did her hair and makeup, she was continually spritzed with one of her favorite scents. The fragrance wafted in near-visible clouds of perfume, trailing throughout the church.
Oh, the places a smell can take us! In the sniff of a nose, we were back at Grandma's. The power of smell.
Shortly after our cologne hunting trip, our son visited us. Apologizing for our still strong smelling coats, he said, "I was just gong to say that I recognized that smell. You smell like Grandma Hill."
And that was a compliment indeed.
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