Divine Winter

We had simultaneous brain settling so that we could take a nap together yesterday. Not realizing my husband had come into the room, I startled when I heard his breathing. Sleeping next to our firstborn, I smelled his smell and listened as his breath mixed with our babies' and was deep into sleep within seconds. When the baby and I finally extracted ourselves from the rocking chair it was already almost dark outside. I scooped up my little one and he hugged me tight around my neck. The pressure of the cold air outside, along with the smell of the heater, Wednesday's soft face, swirled together and I finally smelled Winter. I've been waiting since it turned colder for my own personal season to change.
It's always been this way. The right mix of temperature and smell must come together to move my mind forward into a new time of year. As a small girl, I knew winter was coming soon when my Mom would pull out her heavy blue-jean jacket. As soon as she'd get home from school I'd take it from her and curl up in it on the couch. Familiar smells, that I can almost conjure to this day, would surround me and I felt so safe. Big Red gum and Lady Stetson perfume. Always the denim smelled that way.
I wear perfume now because of her, especially when autumn moves out of the way for winter to come. My boys call it "foofoo", the word I used when I was little too. The best time to put it on is early in the morning before I wake up the boys. Winston never fails to say, "Mommy you smell so good! You smell like foofoo!". Sometimes I rub his little forearm along mine so he can take part of me with him to school; a backwards memory in the making from my own childhood ones.

There have been several incarnations of my Mom's "signature scent". And if, for some reason, I was held responsible in the future for remembering what exactly perfume smelled like, it would be "Red", or "Divine", or "Happy". I got a bottle of "Divine" for Christmas when I was a sophomore in high school. I keep some in the tackle box that serves as my spill over jewelry holder, and it's required of me to wear it this time of year. Memories of sweaters, and touring plantations with my husband (specifically Oak Alley and Nottaway) fill my head.
As silly as it seems, I want my boys to remember the way I smell, as I do my own mother. When they're too big to be with me everyday, and when they eventually leave for their own lives, I want that piece of me to go with them. And when they smell winter, and turn to whoever fills their time and heart, they can say, "My Mama wore "Purple Orchids" everyday, but in the winter she smelled "Divine".
Keep me close my babies. Your baby breath will fall away and your sweet feet will turn stinky, but we can save your little boy memories in a bottle. I promise use a little bit every day.