One of my favorite smells, ever, is honeysuckles. I love the smell of those sweet flowers in late spring. I recently realized that when I smell honeysuckles, my mind brings another smell, a recollected memory of a smell, coupled with honeysuckles. It is the sweet smell of old barn wood. You see, when I was a little girl, my Grandpa Feezor had a shed with his tools in it, and I remember going in there with my grandparents and looking for tools and the frozen foods my grandma kept in her freezer in the old shed. And the honeysuckles permeated that spring North Carolina air!
Funny, isn't it how our minds are so smart to link memory smells in our head?! So I have one more. This sweet grandpa of mine has been in heaven since I was seven years old, but I could have sworn I smelled him a few years ago in the grocery store. Don't think I'm crazy. I was just looking in the meat department when an unassuming man evidently needed to check out the meat selection as well. It was like I was seven years old. I was certain this was the smell I had not smelled in over thirty years. No mistake. It was cigarettes, alcohol and Old Spice! That combination almost knocked me into the meat cooler. I stood there staring at the cuts of meat, afraid to move, lest the smell, and my moment would disappear. I savored it. I breathed him in deeply. And I cried.
Memories are precious and smells are powerful. Who knew?! Maybe it is all because of how I remember my grandpa, his ability to be so calm and peaceful. His ability to make you feel important and cherished. I bet there are honeysuckles in heaven. Maybe even an old barn.