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My Mother's Perfume
I remember when I was young and I went to my mother’s lap when I was scared. I remember her soft voice and the way she hugged me, but what I remember the most is the sweet scent of her perfume. When I was sleeping and she came late from work, she would kiss me goodnight and I knew it was my mother from that sweet fragrance of hers. My mother would always use the same perfume since I was a child, the Chanel no. 5. Her perfume, while too strong for me to use, it seemed so fresh and natural for my mother to wear. I remember how happy she was when my siblings and I buy her perfume one time, and I remember how she wore it all the time. My mother thought of her perfume as part of her beauty routine and she felt completed while wearing that sweet yet strong fragrance. And I remember how she would put it on every morning before she went to work. I remember when I was a child and I wished to be just like her, and I would wear her no. 5 just to feel fine, and I remember how she made me try it on when I wanted to feel like an adult. The fragrance of her perfume permeated the air and fill up my lungs and I felt safe when I smelled that distinguished scent of hers. And whenever I caught a whiff of her perfume, I would look for her in the midst of a crowd and realize that she was nowhere to be found. She would wear her perfume every day to feel special in every way and my mother was never one to leave her house without applying her Chanel no. 5. That perfume has penetrated deep within me and it rests in my soul and I believe its aroma is my favorite one since it belongs to my mom. She is such a joyful being that it comes to no surprise how brightly she shines in my life. And I know her Chanel no. 5 is not for everyone since it belongs to a strong woman like my mom. She places her perfume in her boudoir so she can use it anytime. The Chanel no. 5 is a special memory in my mind, however, this is not from the past, since I can still smell the unique fragrance of hers. However, if there’s one thing I’m confident about is that her perfume would never be as sweet as my mother’s smile.
