there was never any mystery

Have you ever lusted over the smell of someone. That perfect lover whose smell is permanently etched in your memory.

When you do their laundry you smell each article of clothing trying to hold that smell, that perfect smell, forever in your senses for fear that you will never smell them again?

Borrowed clothes or hand-me-downs may come along bathed in that same smell, that same mysterious laundry detergent, and it brings you right back to that perfect person.

I often hear of people who won't give up dirty clothes of loved ones who have died because they hold that magic smell.

For me the smell of someone, not the cologne they wear or the soap they use, but their smell - the sweat and the work and the life that their body exudes is an absolute and often painful reminder of who they are.

I suppose this can work the other way to. Many people loathe the smell of hospitals because they relate the smell to sickness, ill-health and often death. For me, still living in innocence, the smell of hospitals reminds me of life. New life. Everytime i smell something that's come from hospital laundry it reminds me of the precious first days i had with all my children. Those small moments of total stillness and peace. First breaths, first cry, first nursing, first baths. With every baby a few days alone, just me and them. Celebrating the new life that came from me. I immerse myself in that smell whenever i am near it and a flood of memories comes back.

Shane likes to wear a smelly deodorant, old spice i think, because the smell reminds him of his father. I always like the days when he forgets to put it on. I like that smell of him. And i do stop, sometimes, when i am doing his laundry and bury my face in his shirt and soak in his smell, hoping that it stays with me forever.