Have you ever wondered what you smell like to someone else? Someone you know very well. I know….what an odd question. But is it?
Nearing the end of our recent extended visit with our granddaughters in California, Smirker (now 6) jumped into my arms gave me a huge hug and said without hesitation -
“You smell like Chicago.”
While I don’t live in the city of Chicago, it is close enough that when Smirker and Love Monster come for a visit, that is where they say they are going. So to them, Chicago is where we live.
My mind raced back and forth between a variety of both unpleasant and wonderful smells that remind me of Chicago. There is the stink of the Chicago River in the heat of the summer sun. Whew, not so good, Smirker. Ah, but then there is the distinctive breeze off Lake Michigan - part fog, part fish and part wind. I love standing at the end of Navy Pier, mesmerized by the living lake, the passing sail boats and tourist ships, the long breakwater and the lighthouse standing at it’s gate. And then again there is the Lincoln Park Zoo - pungent, certainly not fragrant, but an aromatic invitation to explore the wonders of the wider world. Really, Smirker, I smell like Chicago? Is that what you smell when I am around? Then I think of the sweet aroma as we pass the corner where Garrett’s Popcorn Store commands a line out the door. An invitation to sample this savory fare. But then again, there is the constant flow of traffic - trains, cars, motorcycles, buses and trucks spewing their emissions as they carry us through the city. Oh, but then there is the indescribable fragrance, if the wind is blowing in just the right direction in the early morning hours, coming from the Bloomer Chocolate factory. Hmmmm, there are no words. And the neighborhoods, an amalgam of odors from ethnic restaurants, dry cleaners, florists, bakeries, taverns, laundromats and, of course, the people from all cultures.
So what in the world does Chicago smell like to Smirker, knowing they really don’t spend much time in the city? And how does she connect me with those olfactory senses?
I smell like Chicago. (Admittedly, one of the things that popped into my mind when she said this was the title of the Nirvana song, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”! That must say something about me but we won’t go there.)
In the end it’s very obvious that to Smirker and Love Monster, I smell like our home, where they come to visit. Their home away from home. It must have a very distinctive smell like all homes do. I remember one of my brothers saying, after a long absence from our family home, “it smells like home!” He felt at home. To him it was contentment, familiarity, intimacy.
Do you notice how a home has a unique/particular smell? A Fingerprint, only with an odor. Scientists have confirmed this. There are a lot of places for an odor to hide - couch, carpet, pillows, drapes. They all capture smells. Smells that remind you of the past - they can make you relax and, in some cases, they make people depressed, which is so sad for a home to have this imprint on someone.
What does a home smell like? It’s hard to put your finger on it but it’s a combination of scents. I think of the house I grew up in and the sensory associations I have with it:
- Mom’s perfume and hairspray
- Dad’s after shave, coffee
- Books - old and new
- Fireplace ashes and smoke embedded in the wallpaper
- Old furniture, carrying the remnants of family, friends and visitors.
- Food - undertones of cooking, baked goods - family recipes lingering in the curtains, fabric of the furniture - tuna noodle casserole, roast beef, mashed potatoes, meat loaf, coffee, sugar cookies and on and on.
- Cleaning supplies and detergent
- Piano keys and sheet music
- Carpet - from years of traffic made a part of the carpet nap
- Animals/pets
The smells of life - our family’s life. The linger to this day even as we are no longer physically in that house.
There is an emotional connection with the smells of a home. Smirker definitely knows this even at such a young age. Her sister, Love Monster (9) also made this connection. Last year we were in the basement after the tornado sirens sounded during a bad storm. We called our daughter and the girls to let them know. Love Monster told her mom after we called that, “I am worried sick! Their house is my favorite place in the world and I don’t want it to get destroyed and they will be poor”! She was reassured that we were fine. (I like the part that she was also concerned we would end up poor. But that’s Love Monster.) But I also like that our house is her favorite place in the whole world. What grandparent wouldn’t love to hear this.
