This was from a journal prompt several years ago on a journaling group that I belong to. I thought it worth posting here when I found it in an old mailbox of mine recently.
> When I smell ***, I remember ***
When I smell Youth Dew, I remember Grandma. I remember as a little boy seeing her get ready for church or for her lodge meetings, getting her hair all done up, coming out of the bathroom with her Playtex girdle on. I would sit on the bed in her room and watch her powder herself, put her slip on, then her hose, and spray a fog of Aqua Net (the old red can) all over. Even though it was aimed, more orless, for her head, it always seemed to go everywhere. I don’t think even a hurricane could have moved that hair, which was good considering we lived on the Gulf Coast of Florida. And then the Youth Dew came out of the drawer and that sweet smell always pleased me. After she had baptized herself with Est