Nana Wore White Shoulders

I smelled it today, the scent of my Nana.

My Nana lived in England, so we didn’t get much time with her. When we did, we made the most of it, running all over Los Angeles, seeing the sights. For some reason, she loved Universal Studios.

I loved Nana. Everything about her.

She was kind, generous, and hilarious. When my little brother and I were being precocious, she didn’t shut it down, she joined in. One night, as we were getting ready for bed, she took out her fake teeth and came into our room to read, pray, and give goodnight kisses.

She skipped straight to the kisses.

Doing her best to gum us into heaven.

I’m laughing now, just remembering it.

That was the night I became aware of Nana’s scent.

Because she wrestled with us before bed, it was everywhere, on my pillow, on my stuffed penguin, on my neck and cheeks. Before falling asleep, I remember breathing it in.

The scent of beauty.

Nana’s handwriting was about as terrible as mine. She’d send letters and postcards when she traveled, and I could rarely read what she wrote. But I didn’t need to.

I knew it was encouragement.
I knew it was love.

Because I could smell it.

Nana always sprayed perfume on her letters.

I later learned that was common for her generation. But I still think it was more than that. I think it was her way of making sure her love traveled the distance.

And it did.

Today, walking across campus, I caught it again. A group of older women was visiting, and one of them was wearing Nana’s perfume.

I stopped right there in Ben Brown Plaza.

And I gave thanks.

For letters that carried her scent.
For laughter that crossed generations.
For a love that refused to be limited by distance.

Most of all, for her instinct to celebrate kinship—to make sure we knew we belonged to her.

Maybe you have a scent like that.

A smell that takes you somewhere.
A person who comes back to you in an instant.

Write about it.

Tell someone.

Ask them, “What’s your favorite smell?”

And while you’re at it, say the things that matter:

You have the best laugh.
You are my greatest delight.
I smile when I think about you.

If you need help finding the words, reach out. I’d love to connect.

P.S. And if you want to get really crazy, spray your favorite scent on your letter.