There's a beautiful commercial done by Pandora where children under the ages of 7 are blind folded and asked to go choose their mothers in a room full of other mothers. Many of the children smell the women before moving on to the next one until they find their mom, by touching their hair, their skin and smelling them...such is the power of scent, such is the power of a mother's scent.

This poem gets me thinking of the sensory mementos that our mothers leave us, knowingly or not and they become our points of reference or anchors in our life, especially at times when things are uncertain.

One of the sensory souvenirs that I keep of my mom, who is thankfully still with us, is her secret ingredient in cooking. I remember coming home from high school, her busy in the kitchen cooking me busy being a teenager. Just before the dish was finished I saw her add a pinch of an ingredient but I was unable to see what it was. But this time I stopped and asked her what that was that she always added at the end; she didn't even turn to me but I could see her smiling which made me even more curious! I prodded again when the answer didn't come quick enough and I heard "love". Whaaaat? "Mom, are you serious? You mean you're not putting anything in there???" I asked. Then she turned to look at me, "Is it really nothing?" and I knew it was true. At the end of every dish she made she added a dash of love. Incredible.

She is the person who brought to my attention that each one of us has a particular smell to our skin, unique and unadulterated. Knowing this I can always recognize my own particular smell, that of my skin especially when it has baked in the sun, I can pick it out even through perfume.

I'm pretty sure I got my keen sense of smell from her because she could smell if food was "off" or if something had rolled behind the fridge and gone there to "die" and would have us haul out all the appliances and furniture until we found the culprit! And she could also "smell" when a situation wasn't right or a when a person was lying.

I am reminded of a moment my daughter had recently with her 7 year old daughter, Nina, and the little one Zoe as they picked their way along a busy street, Dalma was anxious and wanting them to stay close, Nina had other plans, those of walking off and ignoring her mother's command to come back. Dalma was scared and frustrated both in the moment and again later as she told me about it. Having the gift of distance, I saw Nina's defiance as her way of testing the boundaries between her and someone so important to her; she was learning how far she could be from her mother and be independent yet still close.

The essence of a mother:
space/closeness
repulsion/attraction
love/hate

How can one individual be so much for us?

Mom came to live with us permanently back in September but then in February we had to return to Canada to put some of my her affairs in order. We left Italy the three of us, my husband, her and I but a twist of fate had it that we couldn't take the same return flight back to Italy so mom and I had to travel together and my husband alone (that's a story for another time). At the airport in Rome we stopped to listen to a woman playing beautiful classical music on the piano, that in itself was a precious moment, but then the woman stopped, a pleasant smile on her face as if she was sharing a secret, she rose and started for the baggage claim, same as us, so we walked with her and complimented her on her beautiful music. She said it was for her mother, who loved music, but was no longer with them. She said this trip to Rome, where she was born, was to honour her mother, to be close to her. Funny thing is, she, the pianist, is Canadian, grew up in the same neighbourhood that I did! Life is funny that way, anything to get you to pay attention. Bags now claimed, we hugged each other, the three of us, and she said to me, keep your mom close, we just don't know how long we have with them. It was Life telling me that we were doing the right thing bringing my mom to live with us, no matter how bumpy the ride appeared.

As Mother's Day draws near, a day that celebrates the women that shared their bodies with us for nine months, accepting that that very body would change forever, fed us with their bodies, I wonder, is there a mom scent?

My Mother's Perfume
Strange how her perfume used to arrive long before she did,
a jade cloud that sent me hurrying
first to the loo, then to an upstairs window to watch for her taxi.
I’d prepare myself
by trying to remember her face, without feeling afraid. As she drew
nearer I’d get braver
until her scent got so strong I could taste the coins in the bottom
of her handbag.
And here I am forty years on, still half-expecting her. Though now
I just have to open
the stopper of an expensive French bottle, daring only a whiff of
Shalimar
which Jacques Guerlain created from the vanilla orchid vine.
Her ghostly face
might shiver like Christ’s on Veronica's veil – a green-gold blossom
that sends me back
to the first day of the school holidays, the way I used to practise
kissing her cheek
by kissing the glass. My eyes scanned the long road for a speck
while the air turned amber.
Even now, the scent of vanilla stings like a cane. But I can also smell
roses and jasmine
in the bottle’s top notes, my legs wading through the fragrant path,
to the gloved hand emerging
from a black taxi at the gate of Grandmother’s garden. And for a
moment I think I am safe.
Then Maman turns to me with a smile like a dropped
perfume bottle, her essence spilt.

© 2005, Pascale Petit
From: The Huntress
Publisher: Seren, Bridgend

My Mother's Perfume by Pascale Petit can be found HERE.

What scents remind you of your mother?
If you're wondering what to give mom for her special day, consider a refill subscription, now with free shipping worldwide, where she can choose the scent to inspire her during the year.

Wishing you and your mother a happy Mother's Day!

Maxine & Elisa

 

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Photo by rebootanika on Unsplash