Ageless are the memories from my youth. The smell of bacon, eggs, and hoecake cooking on a cool Saturday morning or the cleansing smell of an evening shower or the refreshing scent of freshly plowed dirt or the sounds of crickets and frogs singing their hypnotic melodies are just some of the memories of my childhood. The thought of these memories brings a yearning for the innocence that was left behind in that timeless era of being a kid. I have often wondered what life would have been like had these memories been any different. Maybe, I wouldn’t be here at all. Maybe, I wouldn’t be living where I am. Maybe, I wouldn’t have married the woman I did. Maybe, I wouldn’t be here at all. But, I am. I am here and I must do what needs to be done in an effort to never let the memories of my past die or let them hinder my future. The story I am telling is a story about the power of the sense of smell.
My sense of smell has always been an intricate part of my life. Most of my memories are somehow associated with scents. The one I remember the most and take the greatest pleasure in smelling is the one I am writing about.
My dad is my hero. He is a great man. He is the only person I know that can do the things he can do. He is and has been the standard of my life. He is the most loving, caring, compassionate, and giving man I know. I love him and he loves me. I know I can call on him any time and he will be there for me. He is my best friend. I owe my life to him and I will be forever indebted to him for what he has done for me.
My dad was a hard working man. I remember one particular evening in my childhood when my dad came in from working outside in the garden. He was sweaty and a little dirty. He sat down in his favorite rocking chair and began to slowly rock back and forth. I knew what I wanted and needed; to get in his lap. As I crawled up in his lap, I could feel the small grit from the garden. Then it hit me, that smell; the scent of my dad. It was not an offensive odor but one that made me feel secure and calm. I really do not know how to describe it but I loved it and I often wanted to just sit in my dads lap just so I could get a whiff of what a man was supposed to smell like. If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can still smell him today.
One afternoon I was getting ready to go somewhere with my own family. I reached up into my t-shirt drawer and pulled one out. I just happened to put it near my nose and there it was; that scent. There he was, my dad. I stopped for what seemed like an eternity and sniffed as slowly as possible so I could savor the moment. It hit me, I smelled like my dad. I felt like a man. No longer trapped in a time warp wondering when it would happen. Wondering when someone would pass the torch on to me and say, you are a man now. In an instant, I was transported through a couple of decades into the lap of my dad rocking me in his favorite rocking chair and smelling his scent. Why did it all have to happen? I asked myself. Why then? Why now? Why didn’t I get the scent earlier in life? I am in my thirties and just realized I am a man. Why should I care? All of these questions did not get an answer. But, I did realize one thing, I smell just like my dad.
This smell is one of only a few good memories I have of my dad and I cherish it the most. When I was ten years old I watched my dad die. He was killed in a tractor accident on our family farm and I saw most of it. The date was June 23rd, 1976 at around 3:15 p.m. I was going to take my dad a glass of water where he was bush-hogging with our tractor. As I was walking off of the garage my mama was running up the driveway. I knew something was wrong by the look on her face and the way she was running. The first words she spoke pierced me like a knife. She said, “The tractor has turned over on your daddy and I have to call an ambulance!” I ran as hard as I could to my dad and when I got there he was lying on the ground on his back. I screamed daddy and noticed his muscles twitching and thought he was alive and screamed daddy again. To no avail, he died right there in front of me. My life was forever changed.
Back to the t-shirt moment, that day was very important to me. It somehow gave me a tangible connection with my dad. I felt proud to know I smelled just like my dad. And still to this day, every time I smell my t-shirts I think of my dad. You could be wondering how I could say all I said at the beginning of my story in a “present tense” about my dad. My dad is my hero. He is a great man. He is the only person I know that can do the things He can do. He is and has been the standard of my life. He is the most loving, caring, compassionate, and giving man I know. I love Him and He loves me. I know I can call on Him any time and he will be there for me. He is my best friend. I owe my life to Him and I will be forever indebted to Him for what he has done for me. My dad’s name is Jesus. He has been a Father to me since I was nine years old. I know I can crawl up into His lap and He will hold me and make me feel secure and calm. The best part of this story is this; I smell like my dad, both of them. I have realized that if my natural dad had not died, I might not have relied on Jesus like I have and thus miss out on the knowledge that He is all I need and that I smell just like Him.
My goal in life is to allow people to smell the scent of their Heavenly Father so they can know there is a God and there is more to life that just existing. So they can remember Whose they really are and to Whom they really belong. I leave you with this question, “Do you smell like your Father?”
The Smell of My Father
Ageless are the memories from my youth. The smell of bacon, eggs, and hoecake cooking on a cool Saturday morning or the cleansing smell of an evening shower or the refreshing scent of freshly plowed dirt or the sounds of crickets and frogs singing their hypnotic melodies are just some of the memories of my childhood. The thought of these memories brings a yearning for the innocence that was left behind in that timeless era of being a kid. I have often wondered what life would have been like had these memories been any different. Maybe, I wouldn’t be here at all. Maybe, I wouldn’t be living where I am. Maybe, I wouldn’t have married the woman I did. Maybe, I wouldn’t be here at all. But, I am. I am here and I must do what needs to be done in an effort to never let the memories of my past die or let them hinder my future. The story I am telling is a story about the power of the sense of smell.
My sense of smell has always been an intricate part of my life. Most of my memories are somehow associated with scents. The one I remember the most and take the greatest pleasure in smelling is the one I am writing about.
My dad is my hero. He is a great man. He is the only person I know that can do the things he can do. He is and has been the standard of my life. He is the most loving, caring, compassionate, and giving man I know. I love him and he loves me. I know I can call on him any time and he will be there for me. He is my best friend. I owe my life to him and I will be forever indebted to him for what he has done for me.
My dad was a hard working man. I remember one particular evening in my childhood when my dad came in from working outside in the garden. He was sweaty and a little dirty. He sat down in his favorite rocking chair and began to slowly rock back and forth. I knew what I wanted and needed; to get in his lap. As I crawled up in his lap, I could feel the small grit from the garden. Then it hit me, that smell; the scent of my dad. It was not an offensive odor but one that made me feel secure and calm. I really do not know how to describe it but I loved it and I often wanted to just sit in my dads lap just so I could get a whiff of what a man was supposed to smell like. If I close my eyes and think hard enough, I can still smell him today.
One afternoon I was getting ready to go somewhere with my own family. I reached up into my t-shirt drawer and pulled one out. I just happened to put it near my nose and there it was; that scent. There he was, my dad. I stopped for what seemed like an eternity and sniffed as slowly as possible so I could savor the moment. It hit me, I smelled like my dad. I felt like a man. No longer trapped in a time warp wondering when it would happen. Wondering when someone would pass the torch on to me and say, you are a man now. In an instant, I was transported through a couple of decades into the lap of my dad rocking me in his favorite rocking chair and smelling his scent. Why did it all have to happen? I asked myself. Why then? Why now? Why didn’t I get the scent earlier in life? I am in my thirties and just realized I am a man. Why should I care? All of these questions did not get an answer. But, I did realize one thing, I smell just like my dad.
This smell is one of only a few good memories I have of my dad and I cherish it the most. When I was ten years old I watched my dad die. He was killed in a tractor accident on our family farm and I saw most of it. The date was June 23rd, 1976 at around 3:15 p.m. I was going to take my dad a glass of water where he was bush-hogging with our tractor. As I was walking off of the garage my mama was running up the driveway. I knew something was wrong by the look on her face and the way she was running. The first words she spoke pierced me like a knife. She said, “The tractor has turned over on your daddy and I have to call an ambulance!” I ran as hard as I could to my dad and when I got there he was lying on the ground on his back. I screamed daddy and noticed his muscles twitching and thought he was alive and screamed daddy again. To no avail, he died right there in front of me. My life was forever changed.
Back to the t-shirt moment, that day was very important to me. It somehow gave me a tangible connection with my dad. I felt proud to know I smelled just like my dad. And still to this day, every time I smell my t-shirts I think of my dad. You could be wondering how I could say all I said at the beginning of my story in a “present tense” about my dad. My dad is my hero. He is a great man. He is the only person I know that can do the things He can do. He is and has been the standard of my life. He is the most loving, caring, compassionate, and giving man I know. I love Him and He loves me. I know I can call on Him any time and he will be there for me. He is my best friend. I owe my life to Him and I will be forever indebted to Him for what he has done for me. My dad’s name is Jesus. He has been a Father to me since I was nine years old. I know I can crawl up into His lap and He will hold me and make me feel secure and calm. The best part of this story is this; I smell like my dad, both of them. I have realized that if my natural dad had not died, I might not have relied on Jesus like I have and thus miss out on the knowledge that He is all I need and that I smell just like Him.
My goal in life is to allow people to smell the scent of their Heavenly Father so they can know there is a God and there is more to life that just existing. So they can remember Whose they really are and to Whom they really belong. I leave you with this question, “Do you smell like your Father?”