The Scent of a Woman

One hot summer day, the electric company had some problems, which resulted in problems for our whole neighborhood. Not quite a blackout, a brownout occurred. If you haven’t been through one of these, it is much less fun than a blackout. Appliances buzz and hum with the strangest of noises. Noises that you know are not good. And while there is a slight current of electricity, it is not enough to make things work. If anything it just messes everything up.

This particular day the brownout lasted for what seemed like hours. With the ridiculous heat in our apartment, Phil and I decided to take the nine flights of stairs down to cool off in the shade of the big tree in front of our building. We ran into our friend and building manager who was busy on his cell phone fielding calls from upset neighbors who didn’t understand that this was out of his control. Just when I thought his day as tough, our oldest tenant got out of a cab with bags of groceries. She had no idea of what had happened, and at 94 she had a decision to make…take the stairs and get her precious cargo into her slightly working fridge on the fourth floor, or rest her bones under the tree with the rest of us until the elevator eventually got full power again. She was a bit distressed about her groceries. But climbing the stairs with heavy bags was not an option.

Phil offered to take her keys and groceries, and bring them upstairs on his own. She was having none of that. Ultimately we talked her into letting him carry the groceries while she and I slowly ascended the stairs behind him. My job of course was to steady her and hold her hand on the way up. In the heat we started our journey. She took the stairs one at a time, resting on each platform. I tried to distract her with conversation on the way. She always smelled strongly of a distinct perfume. I had noticed from encounters in the past that her uniquely strong scent could be detected long after she had left a room. I commented how pretty it was and she happily told me that her signature sent was Clinique Aromatic Elixer. Four flights of stairs and lots of small talk later, we got her settled in to her apartment.

The next day when I came home from some errands, I noticed a small gift wrapped box on my doorstep. She had bought me a fresh bottle of her signature scent. It is not a scent that I would choose for myself, but I was touched by her present. I tucked it away, and smiled.

This past December, we met in the laundry room. There she was (now at 98 years young) doing her laundry on her own, and smelling of her beloved Elixer. We chatted a bit and I was pleasantly shocked to hear she remembered me. We caught up as we folded clothes. She was very inquisitive and asked about my job, my ex-husband, holiday plans, how life was in general. Her Irish eyes sparkled when she started talking about her life here in the building. She has cherished living her for well over 30 years now and was very proud of the fact that at 98 she still can manage quite well.

Just last night I ran down to the bar to drop off some sunglasses I had found. As I exited the elevator I was met by her smell. I looked around and couldn’t find her. I delivered my goods to the bar, and returned to the lobby to catch the elevator backup to the apartment. Just as the elevator doors slid open, she came toddling off the street into the lobby. I opened the big glass security door for her and welcomed her home. She asked if I could hold the elevator while she checked her mail and I of course obliged. Up we went. Again she was full of conversation. At one point she said “I guess I’m not doing so bad for 99.” “Oh!” I gasped. “Did you have a birthday recently?” “No, no dear! It is in February. I will be 99 and I’m quite looking forward to it.” I reassured her that she was indeed, doing amazingly well. She exited the elevator before me, scent still lingering.

I guess the best way to end this story is to share another gift she gave to me…perspective. Today I got home from yet another bad day at the office. I fed the cats, took out the trash, and sorted mail. All of which were done while obsessing over the injustices I perceived myself of having gone through of late. Exhausted, I soaked in a long hot shower. I put on my plushest of winter pajamas, and then dug around under my bathroom sink for that special small box. (Yes, I have kept it all these years.) I spritzed on a bit of the Elixer she gave me. I'm pretty sure the cats immediately started sneezing, but there was something about that scent I couldn't resist on a night like tonight. While overbearing at times, it somehow just made me feel better. Much better! Perhaps that scent is the secret to her longevity.