I was standing in the cold basement at the washing machine sorting through dirty white socks, shirts and under garments. As I tossed one of Zack's t-shirts into the old machine I caught a whiff of Old Spice. I caught a whiff of Kevin. I caught a flood of emotion that ran through my body in a split second.
After Kevin died, I took the white t-shirt he had worn to bed that night and smelled it over and over again until the smell was gone. I even kept it sealed in a zip loc bag in an effort to retain that Old Spice scent. Each night before bed I would open it up and breathe him in. I wanted to fill my entire body with him. His scent did not stay longer than two or three months. One day I opened the bag and smelled the shirt for the last time. I was heartbroken to find it had lost all trace of Kevin. That t-shirt is still entombed in the zip loc bag just minus the Old Spice, minus Kevin.
I recently blogged about my very bad memory. Since Old Spice has traveled with me through life I will never forget its trademark scent. It reminds me of my father. It reminds me of Kevin. And, now it reminds me of Zack.
Copyright 2010 by Jennifer M. Karn