Refuge in Grief – Day 04

How do certain smells connect with your grief? 

A letter… 
Dear Jon, 

     When I smell the things that are us, the little girl in my brain runs after bubbles squealing and giggling. It’s like we are back on a beach in St. John, the hot sun is painting pictures on my body with its rays, and I’m digging my toes into the sand down to where it is cool. The gentle, rolling waves in front of me are inviting us to play and get wet. You are looking at me with that smirky, devilish grin of yours. 
     The smells that are here in your absence comfort me. They are reminders that it was all real. You will always be Lagerfeld Classic, with a hint of Clubman. When you would kiss me goodbye in the morning and I was still in bed, you would leave behind this scent in my hair and on my neck. I would fall back to sleep as if you were still holding me. I don’t sleep that well right now. 
     I miss our weekend coffee time together. You would be interested to know I have mastered the French press, even your Mom thinks I do an okay job at it. When the kids and I go to our Starbucks drive-thru, it’s like you’re with us. I still order a cafe mocha, out of habit. That burnt coffee smell always reminds me of when our daughter was born and your coffee breath was too horrible for me to bear! But I love you for doing everything I asked you to do to help. 
     Your lavender plants are huge this year. I forgot to cut them back last fall. Those plants have been so prolific. When I did a little weeding today, I brushed my hand through one of them. The rich, musky-sweet scent always makes me smile. It reminded me of the flowers you would bring me from the tiny floral shop in Bucktown, always just a few stems, but you knew what would intrigue me. If you were here, I would want to get naked with you right now. I’m cold, I need to go put a sweater on. 
I love you, I miss you. XOXO Puskie

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