I’m missing Mom a little more than normal today.
I thought I’d share a story that is about holding onto memories, along with an example of my husband’s kindness.
When I was Little…
When I was a young girl, I was in awe with the many different items Mom had in her bathroom and jewelry cabinet.
There were pretty, sparkly pins that she would sometimes wear on her sweaters and coats. These included jewel-encrusted flowers, as well as a whimsical animal pins.
Her jewelry box was filled with special occasion necklaces she would wear when she dressed up to go on dates with Dad, along with a collection of rings and earrings that she would wear to a party.
They were beautiful trinkets and treasures that held magic to my young eyes.
Mom kept her make-up in the bathroom cabinet. She didn’t wear a lot of it, but she would occasionally wear mascara, lipstick, and some eye-liner.
In the medicine cabinet, way up on the top shelf sandwiched between her toothbrush and her Lady Speed Stick deodorant, sat Mom’s bottle of Timeless perfume.
Timeless
Mom did not wear perfume daily. Matter of fact, it was something she used very sparingly depending on the occasion. When she did use perfume, it seems like it was always Timeless by Avon.
I remember watching Mom get ready for an evening, seeing her spritz the perfume on her wrists, and then rubbing them together, before she finished putting on jewelry and doing her hair.
Every now and then, if we were lucky, Mom would spray a little perfume on my wrist and my sister’s, before she finished getting dressed for the evening. On those rare occasions, Bobbie and I felt grown up and delighted to be included in such a special way.
Later on in life, when I was in my teens and moving into adulthood, I remember that Mom used the perfume more sparingly. Scents started to bother her nose so she tended to shy away from anything with even the most subtle of smells.
Holding On to Memories
When Mom passed away three years ago, life shattered.
I mean, it literally crumbled.
So many things happened that first week after she was gone. Some of it is blurry, and other pieces are crystal clear.
Dad was having a difficult time seeing all of Mom’s personal items throughout the house, mainly the bathroom. He asked my sister and I to go through everything and take it away.
Talk about difficult.
We hadn’t even had her funeral yet at that time and we were standing in the bathroom with a garbage bag and ‘keep boxes’ to sort through pieces of Mom’s life.
Throwing away her favorite old footies seemed like a momentous decision.
We chipped away at the task, sorting through items such as the comb she used to get tangles out of our hair when we were younger, to bits and pieces of jewelry, and then back to orthopedic socks.
When we opened the medicine cabinet and I saw the old bottle of Timeless sitting on the shelf, I asked Bobbie if she was okay with me taking that home. She quickly agreed, and moved on to the next item in the cupboard. Bobbie was probably battling her own memories amid all the items and Timeless didn’t play as big of a part in it for her as it did for me.
I left Dad’s that night with a box holding an old blue comb, a nightgown with frogs on it, some hair clips that would eventually get thrown away, and a half empty bottle of Timeless.
Special Occasions
Fast forward to a couple of months later.
Christmas was near (Mom’s favorite holiday) and I was not feeling festive about anything at all. That is what you would call an understatement.
Brian found me standing in our bathroom one day, in tears, just trying to stumble through the motions of living life.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I want to wear some of Mom’s perfume, but I can’t.” I faced the sink, grasping the countertop, and just stood there trying to make sense of everything.
“You should wear it if it makes you feel closer to her,” he replied. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“It’s more than half gone. Every time I spray it, I know I’m going to eventually run out.” I looked at his reflection through the bathroom mirror. “Once that happens, it will be like losing her all over again.”
Brian gave me a hug and I left the bathroom, leaving Mom’s perfume untouched, sitting on the bottom shelf of my cabinet.
I put the conversation out of my head, because frankly, navigating each day at that point took all of my energy.
A couple of weeks later, I was sitting at the kitchen table and Brian brought me a package. I opened it up, unsure of what it could be.
Wrapped up tight, in brown paper packaging, were two vintage bottles of Timeless perfume from Avon. They looked exactly like the one I had of Mom’s.
“I know this isn’t the same as your mom’s, but this way you can save her bottle for special occasions, but still wear the same perfume without worrying about running out.” He smiled at me and gathered up the box and wrapping.
“Thank you,” I replied, smiling through my tears.
Moving On
Since Mom has been gone, I’ve probably used her old perfume around a dozen times.
Usually, the times I do give in and use her bottle rather than the ones from eBay, are typically around her birthday or the holidays.
There have been a handful of times I’ve used her perfume, ‘just because’ I needed it to get through my day.
I’ve started writing a biography about Mom. I work on it occasionally, and then let it sit as I take on other projects.
One day, I will publish ‘Mom’s Perfume’ to share a more detailed account of her story with others.
Hopefully I will do her justice by sharing stories about her life that demonstrate the love she had for her family, her whimsical sense of humor, and the naive, yet wholesome, outlook she took when facing new adventures.
Mom left a void that can not be filled. While I realize I may never be able to capture just how special of a person she was, I do hope I can share some of her spirit with others.
I do know she would have got a kick out of reading this blog and would have been humbled to know that I wanted to write about her.
Goals for Today:
- Organize the Foyer Area
- Make Healthy Eating Choices
- Wear Timeless – Just Because