Sunday, December 21, 2014

My nose knows holidays

No matter where you are from or what holidays you celebrate, we all learn to associate certain smells with particular festivities. As you read about my fragrance memories, I invite you to recollect what your own nose knows.

Holidays mean a time of year. Growing up Christian in Buffalo, NY, Christmastime meant cold and snow, and unless, you’re around it and are sensitive to such things, you may not realize that there is an odor to winter’s cold. It is a crispness, which, I’m sure has degrees that hunters, farmers, and gatherers identify and have tracked for millennia.
Holidays mean symbols. My dad and I would go tree shopping and bring home a fragrant blue spruce that rested in a bucket of water on the back porch for several days before it was moved into the living room to be decorated. The scent of pine and the outdoors lingered on the porch and adorned the whole house.

Holidays mean special foods. One day in mid-December I would come home from school and, with the scent of anise in the air, know that cookie baking and decorating was the happy activity for the rest of the afternoon. Christmas Eve meant oyster stew before the 11pm church service where candles burned bright. Strong coffee in the percolator to accompany the trays of sweet treats welcomed guests at the house after the celebration. There was always a tangerine in the toe of my stocking and Christmas breakfast included a yeast-based coffeecake that my mother called kugel and grapefruit with a side of a candy cane, for we would sip the citrusy juice through the peppermint stick. Dinner was lamb with all the fixings for a large feast that ended with mincemeat pie which had smelled wonderful while baking the day before. For those who wanted an after dinner drink, crème de menthe was served in small glasses that I still have.
Holidays means relatives. Uncle Bob and Aunt Dorothy spent Christmas Eve and Day with us. He wore Old Spice on special occasions and she liked lavender. My aunt Alice who lived in England would often send something she had knitted and which retained a woolen-y smell even after years of washing.

Holidays mean fun activities. The church youth group would go tobogganing and there would be the smell of wet clothes when we gathered for hot chocolate in the lodge and there would be more hot chocolate after an evening of caroling. When we were sung out and reached our final destination, there would be a fireplace for warming up and roasting marshmallows.
Holidays mean feelings. As I discovered a broader world and was exposed to a variety of sacred and secular holidays, I also came to understand that families have their own traditions and that not everyone’s special days are happy. The smell of liquor often means that over the course of the party some relative gets nasty. In many houses there are no delicious special smells because parents struggle to put basic necessities on the table. Even those with plenty can get stressed with all of the expected specialness and the air around them smells tense and tight. I have also learned that there is a smell to lonely, which is what the holidays can trigger for so many. This is a smell that we have to also sense with our eyes, our ears, and our hearts.

As I enjoy the scents of the season this year, both of my own making and what comes my way, I want to be intentional about seeking out the smell of loneliness in myself and in others. I will hope to do something that provides an alternative fragrance, one that might, at least momentarily, make this holiday time something that can be enjoyed and treasured.
May all the warm scents that mean good things to you be yours through end of this year and into the next.

Marilyn

1 comment:

  1. I enjoyed this piece for many reasons. Thank you for offering such richness in your words.

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