
PROMPT: Do You Have a Memory That’s Linked to a Smell?
I have a lot of memories, both good and bad…but I have to set something straight up-front…I’ve had a traumatic brain injury (TBI) and when your brain bounces around inside your skull, it can do something weird to your olfactory receptors inside the brain. For example, it can make you smell things that aren’t there (AKA “phantom smells”). Also, my sense of smell is not so keen since I also had worked in a pool store where the smell of chlorine was so strong, I think it also burned out my sinuses and left me with virtually NO sense of smell. But my nose and brain remember…
I am one of those individuals that can smell rain coming. It is one of my most favorite smells. Of course, my previously broken rib and middle-aged joints can tell me that rain is coming far before I can smell it, which may just be a phantom smell/memory…I’m really not sure these days…
A smell I simply cannot stand is that of Fireball, the popular cinnamon whiskey. No, I did not get drunk on it, before you form any laughable opinions. That was what I smelled on my abusers breath as he was beating me unconscious in 2017 (which resulted in the TBI). It makes me gag, to this day. A friend thought I was being melodramatic and bought me a shot of it, while I was visiting the restroom, to which I came back and caught the whiff of red hot cinnamon and vomited violently into a planter next to the bar. And I had yet to drink anything alcoholic! She thought that was SO hilarious, but I didn’t…to me, that is the smell of fear and of nearly dying. That is not comical in the least…my BF and I even had to recently excuse ourselves from a family function because they were burning a candle that smelled of cinnamon “red-hots,” because it was making me queasy and anxious. True story!
I know when I was anxious, as that was often and normal as a DV victim, I would bury my face in my Pug’s fur, in her neck area, as she had so many fat rolls that she’d look as though she was wear a high-necked Elizabethan collar. Anyway, I did that because she was my emotional support companion and my best friend (my abuser wouldn’t allow me to have human friends). She had a yeasty smell mixed with the pine smell of the shampoo that I’d use on her fairly-frequently, as she loved to roll on top of dead critters in the yard; hence, my furry bestie would get a bath approximately weekly. That smell comforted me more than any human could. She was my favorite pet and I loved her dearly! I had to put her down when she was nearly twelve years old, so she could die with dignity (and so my abuser wouldn’t hurt her). I held her and felt the life leave her body, when the vet injected her. I cried and buried my face in her neck, to be comforted one last time. I will never forget her smell as long as I live…well, and she also smelled like a McDonald’s cheeseburger, her favorite meal and what I gave her before we went on a last walk and to the vet office…
My Mother passed away in June 2022. My Dad brought me some of her things, including her toiletries. I sorted through things and found her two perfumes that she always wore. Her everyday perfume was Yardley’s Lily-of-the-Valley and her fancy perfume that she saved for church or special occasions was White Shoulders. Those two smells were so familiar, that I cried for a good thirty minutes…these scents were comforting me and making me home-sick all at once! They now have a place of honor amongst my basket of perfumes.
A smell that brings me joy is that of my Grandma B’s snickerdoodle cookies. Smelling those cookies baking smelled like childhood and like home to me. I had met my BF on Facebook and we chatted for a few months before going out on a date. I mentioned that memory only ONE TIME and he remembered it! When he came to pick me up for our date, he brought me a bouquet of flowers, a Wonder Woman action figure, and a square plastic container of snickerdoodles that he himself had baked! As he was saying how his weren’t as good as his Mom’s cookies, I tore that plastic lid off and buried my nose in the middle of the cookies. All I smelled was pure bliss and joy! He, on the other hand, had stopped explaining and was staring at me in disbelief, probably wondering what he had gotten himself into. Thank goodness we worked out, because he is “my person.” He gets me!
It’s incredibly amazing that smells can make a person run a gamut of emotions. I know I did just writing this post!