This is a story about the power of scent. It’s the story I never tell…
I get asked all the time, usually at parties or social gatherings, how I got started as a perfumer. How was I able to build my own company all around natural scent? Usually I would find a way to give a reasonable-sounding reply, while still managing to evade a more personal story. It still affects me so much that it’s difficult to speak out loud, but writing seems a bit easier.
You see, it all goes back to my grandfather. When I was a little boy, I thought he hung the moon. I would have spent all day, everyday with him if I could have. He was the best man I’ve ever known. Unfortunately, he worked the night shift, and he slept all day… which is just torture for a little kid. I did my best to be quiet, but when no one was looking I would stand outside his door with my ear pressed to see if I could hear him breathing. A most uneventful pastime, but somehow it relaxed me. A lot of oppressive things happened in my childhood, as can be said by many people, yet somehow as long as he was not too far away, I knew everything would be okay… he was my anchor.
Then, just like that, the world became, for a while, a sullen, shadowy place. I woke up to most of my family being in my house in the middle of the night, and my heart numbed because I knew my grandfather wasn’t there. And, even at 9, I knew he wasn’t coming back.
I tried to be brave while I felt like I was dying inside. As soon as I could I ran to his house and I jumped in my grandparents’ bed, and I breathed in his scent as deeply as I could so I would never lose it. But I was afraid I would lose it… so I stole my grandfather’s pillow, because it had his scent… the pure essence of his smell was as close to him as I could get. I swapped the pillows. Even my grandmother didn’t know. (Maybe that’s why I never told this story?)
For a long time I had it successfully hidden in my room. And when I missed him, I would just hug the pillow until I couldn’t breathe. Then about a year later my mother found it while I was at school. But she didn’t know about it, because it was my secret.
I just about died when my mother washed that pillow!
But, after that trauma had passed, I realized I could recall the scent memory and I hadn’t lost it after all. In that one moment I realized the power of scent. I’ve been fascinated with it ever since.
So remember my story… remember the power of scent on the psyche, and that every scent isn’t just a scent, but to someone somewhere, it is a very powerful memory. I’m not sure what scent will recall my essence for those closest to me when I leave this world for the next, but I hope it brings some comfort until we will meet again…
Live Natural. Go Pure!
Michael