Estee Lauder Perfume

Carol RoachStarred Page By Carol Roach, 17th May 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Personal Experiences

I wrote this article as part of the requirement for a wonderful online course I took called "42daysofwriting." This course taught us how to write in the flow of consciousness genre letting my ideas flow on paper without reservation.


She was not married though she had three daughters. Two daughters grew up French speaking. One daughter grew up English. All three daughters lived in separate homes; none lived in her home. She did not know how to mother. She was an elusive bird; a woman-child chasing after rainbows and broken promises. She was young and naive. She did not know who she was or what she wanted from life. She only found herself in her midlife years.

Three daughters

Three girls grew up in different environments bound only by the knowledge that they had the same mother. The rest of their young lives held no common ground at all.

The oldest daughter lived with a grandmother.
She had a father until the age of five. It was then that he decided to leave his mother's home, marry, and start a new life. He left his daughter and his old life behind.

The second daughter grew up in a home with a loving but elderly couple.
She was the apple of their eye until the gentleman died and she was forced to live with a mother she had never known.

The third daughter lived with a family that loved her dearly, so much so they moved without a forwarding address and changed her name to theirs. She did not know her real mother. At least they were gracious enough to let her know that she had one and she had two older sisters as well.

The younger sister seemed to be lost to her siblings forever. All three girls wondered if their paths would ever meet. The oldest English speaking sibling and the middle sister who was French speaking did cross paths. The mother took the middle sister back to live with her after the elderly man died. The English sister remained with her grandmother but visited now and then.

Estee Lauder Perfume

It was the time to get to know each other, learn about each other and hopefully learn from each other. But the feelings of family connectedness never materialized for the older child. She did not live with them. She spoke a different language and lived a different lifestyle. Again the only common thread was mother; a connection by bloodline only. She was expected to get to know her sister while she still hardly knew her mother.

I remember when my sister Linda and I were already married and living on our own. We had a discussion about the smells of childhood. I have already written about how my mother's wheel soup was the smell I associated with love and acceptance. It was the smell of home, not my home; her home, but the smell of home nonetheless.
Linda remembered an entirely different smell to associate with mother. She remembered her Estee Lauder perfume.

"Carol, how could you forget how mother always wore it? You could walk anywhere in the house and you would know she had been there."

I asked her what memory that smell represented to her and she said,
"It was the essence of Mother; a beautiful woman, strong and desirable and one day I wanted to be just like her."

It was from my sister's description of her emotions as a young girl that I realized we had a very different concept of Mother and a very different reaction to her perfume. I never forgot that mother wore Estee Lauder Perfume. I will always connect that scent with her. But my reaction to that aroma did not bring me closer to my mother as it did for Linda. Instead it brought us further apart.

When I remember my mother wearing Estee Lauder Perfume, I do remember an ethereal beauty; jet black hair hanging down her back, violet/blue eyes that stood out like two vibrant stars contrasted by her hair and olive skin tone. I saw a Goddess before me. She was someone who was so different from me that she was unreachable. The mystery of who she was had never been revealed to me. My mother was practically a stranger. Estee Lauder Perfume was as elusive to me as she was.

The smell of Estee Lauder Perfume is the smell of beauty, mystery, enchantment, wonderment and desirability but it is not the smell of reality for me. My mother was not part of my world; she was part of Linda's world. Although I will always love the smell of Estee Lauder and associate it with my mother I will not wear it myself. It is not me.
I am a fortunate woman to have that sweet smell to remember my mother by even though the memories it conjures up are not the fond memories that Linda has. I am fortunate because I have those memories to come back to. My sister Joyce has no memory smells of my mother. She has only stories of what other people have told her. I doubt that Estee Lauder Perfume holds any memories for her at all.

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Bonding, Elderly Couple, Estee Lauder Perfume, Family, Grandmother, Mother, Soup

Meet the author

author avatar Carol Roach
Retired therapist and author of two books, freelance writer, newsletter editor, and blogger. I write, health, mental health, women's issues, animal , celebrity, history, and SEO articles.

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author avatar Retired
17th May 2015 (#)

Excellent writing!

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