Fastor
A number of smells from my childhood come to mind, but one in particular stands out. As both my parents worked, during school holidays I would routinely be deposited with my maternal grandparents. My recollection of that time, both sensory and emotional, is most vivid around Christmas.
In the winter months, our house would often be freezing in the mornings, as fires would not be lit until the evening and had died down to embers long before we woke. It was, therefore, not unusual to wake up to ice on the inside of my bedroom window, and so to be dragged out of a warm bed, still half asleep, at 5.30am was quite a miserable experience. It would involve getting dressed under a blanket and then having a quick wash in cold water. I recall huddling in the back of the car as my father removed ice and snow from the windscreen, followed by the 30-minute drive to my grandparents' house.
My grandparents' house, when I finally got there, was like heaven. Typically, they would have lit their coal fire before I arrived, so the house was already full of warmth. And if they hadn't already got the fire going, they'd put on a portable gas heater. Coming into that from a freezing December day was the best feeling in the world. Having had to get up two hours earlier than I would have on a school day, I was still sleepy, so my grandmother would make up a little bed on the sofa, with blankets. That sofa wasn't particularly expensive, because all the best furniture was reserved for the front room, which was only ever used for guests. It was the back room that was the "living room".
Getting under the blankets, I'd snuggle down and push my face into the cheap foam cushions. They had a distinctive and comforting smell to them; foam, infused with coal fire smoke and gas, and all the other smells that would have soaked in over the years. It probably doesn't sound too appealing, but it was the best smell in the world, and I'd drift back to sleep with it in my nostrils. It was the smell of warmth and safety, and when I fully awoke, I knew a great day of fun with my grandparents was ahead.
I'd love to experience that smell again, but it would be impossible to bottle, because in the end, it's not really the smell itself; it's everything that went with it.
Thank you for sharing this. It's beautifully written, and I could almost feel the cold window and then the warmth of that back room. You're so right in your last line. We think we miss a smell, but what we really miss is the feeling it was wrapped in: being half asleep, safe, and knowing a whole day with your grandparents was ahead. Foam, coal smoke and gas might not sound appealing to anyone else, but I completely understand why it's the best smell in the world to you.
