“It smells like you...”
Updated: Jan 2
My sweet cousin came to Redding to spend a day and evening with me. After catching up with the latest family news we took a little jaunt to downtown Redding.
First, we stopped for a fabulous late lunch at Woody’s Brewing Company.
Next, we popped over to the Oregon Street Antique Mall.
Strolling the aisles upstairs and down we giggled and pointed to objects recalling favorite childhood memories triggered by all the wonderful vintage treasures in every booth.
My kids had moved into their new home.
With a “sure, come on over” we headed to Palo Cedro and were greeted by my young grandson, daughter and son-in-law and their sweet little puppy, Oakley.
Touring the house, my grandson, Hudson, happily trotted ahead giving us a running commentary on each room.
When we got to their guest room my grandson said, “This room smells like you, Nammer.”
Yikes. A room smelled like me.
I held my breath. Oh, no I thought. It’s happened.
Old people passed through my mind…faces flashed with their identifying smells. I remember my cousins joking about having to sleep in the same bed with their “stinky” grandma.
Egads…I was now part of the smelly generation.
My heart thumped frantically…my cousin had just heard my sweet darling grandson declare I carried a fragrance that lingered.
I had spent five days in their very lovely guest room after being evacuated from my neighborhood because of the Carr Fire. But, that had been weeks ago. Wow, I must be an odorous old person, I lamented.
“It smells pretty, like you,” he said with a big grin.
Startled, I repeated his words. “Pretty, like me?”
My daughter smiled…”It smells like your perfume.”
My heart melted.
I felt a twirl coming on! I wanted to shout and dance! I rejoiced!
A reprieve…a relief…a respite. Not yet. I’m not yet relegated to the dreaded stinky elderly category.
(All I could think about was…Thank goodness for Chanel Number 5.)
May your days be full of rejoicing…
Rejoice always… 1 Thessalonians 5:16
(Photos of the puppy and Hudson playing with Oakley in the house are my daughter’s…I borrowed them from her.)
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