What is it

about the sense of smell? Why is it that it tends to evoke stronger memories than actual memories themselves? I think we've all had it.

Though people often remember the smell of chocolate chip cookies, mine is that of molasses cookies at Grandma Austin's house. She didn't make them, but I loved them, and they were kept in a Tupperware container on the second shelf and emitted a sweet, thick smell when the top was opened. She was also known for her White Shoulders perfume, something that was always too strong and flowery for me, but was THE scent of Grandma, all things girly, and her pink bathroom.

I was also fortunate enough to be the granddaughter of her husband, Lee Austin, one of the best grandpas ever. He was an Eagle Scout, something he achieved as an adult and the highest honor of Boy Scout. He taught us to camp (even though it was in the back yard), to suck it up when sleeping on an uncomfortable cot, and to enjoy the smell of kerosene lamps and green, wool, Army blankets. He built a swing that took us to the branches of the highest tree from two knotted ropes and a plank of wood. We listened to Ernie Harwell and Tigers broadcasts before we understood baseball and ate popcorn from hammered tin bowls. As girls, we were alternately taught to be proper and allowed to be free. I loved our weeks at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

As I got older, school, not home or family, became the primary environment where my memories were made. Nearly everyone can identify the stale, hot, dusty smell of school during that first week in September after it sat empty and still all summer. Back when we had chalkboards and erasers, they had a smell too. The red track I ran on during my first state meet smelled very different than the black ones I'd run on all season. Even now when I approach a track, the smell makes me nervous… anxious even. So I guess it’s not just memories that are evoked... emotions are too.

I remember the smell of my first boyfriend's cologne (Drakkar), my first love’s cologne (Grey Flannel), and the terrible scary smell of my angry father's Miller High Life breath. When I was growing up in the house without air conditioning, I remember lying in bed upstairs, trying to sleep and smelling freshly cut grass and… just heat. It was a quiet heaviness, a feel of stagnant air and sweat. Thing is… I don’t remember much about those particulars besides the smell. Aside from the bright moon shining through my window and the seashell bedspread, it’s the olfactory sense that was impressed upon me.

So as I think about my friend Michelle, one of the best blessings of my life and who also has almost no sense of smell, I wonder how her memories have formed. Does she remember things from activities? From photographs? From journals? Do her memories have no connection to the olfactory nerve?

I'm feeling nostalgic about my family, I guess about my past, because of the passing of my cousin, Renee, at a young 46. She died of cancer, and if she did, why wouldn't I? As I can remember all these times and events, they are things the kids and I talk about. Maybe someday their memories will be evoked from the smell of horses, fresh bread baking, or newly cut hay....