Scent is a powerful thing.

    It can make you cringe in disgust or smile with pleasure. It can transport you to other places…even to the past. Sometimes, just the thought of a scent is enough to bring you comfort because it reminds you of times that seemed long forgotten.

    A talk with my sister brought back such memories tonite.

    Our Mom loved to sew.

    She used an old machine…one of the metal ones. Sewing machines have evolved over the years are are mostly plastic now, but if you look hard enough, you can still find one of the ‘magical’ steel machines. Okay, so the new machines might do all sorts of neat things…but they don’t feel as solid under the hand, they don’t sound the same…and they don’t smell the same.

    Those old machines needed oil…lots of oil. Weird as it sounds, the smell of that oil burning in the machine has stayed with me all of these years…it smelled like home.

    As Mom sewed, she sang.

    Mom had a penchant for old songs. The sound of her beautiful voice accompanied by the whir and grind of that old machine is an easy memory to recall. The memory of the sound of her shears scraping softly but firmly on the table as she cut the fabric and the smell of oil takes me back to the days when the biggest decision that a little girl had to make was how to coordinate the outfits on her Barbie.

    Mom sewed because she enjoyed it…and because it was the cheapest way to keep four kids dressed. She made our dresses, pants for my brother, shirts, and doll clothes for our baby dolls. But the most important thing that she did was sew memories for us kids. No matter how old I get, I will always remember the smell of that old machine and all of the wonderful memories that go with it.

    Sometimes, when things get stressed, I find myself singing the same songs that my Mom used to sing. I used to sew quite a bit until my machine broke. It is something that I want to do again. I’ve promised myself that I will get another machine when finances permit….and then I will sew again.

    Who knows? I might get lucky and find an old metal oil-burner like Mom had. 

    Until then, I can close my eyes and remember….and it still smells like home.    

arkmomy