STORYTIME TAPESTRY

The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world

? 

Special Treat ??“ From Me!

Oct 4, 2005? 

? 

? 

Estee Lauder Perfume

Carol Roach

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 na??ve. She did not know who she was or what she wanted from life.?  She only found herself in her middle years.

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. They were gracious enough to let her know she had one and 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 with her mother and sister; now and then.

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 when it could be said she still hardly knew her mother.

After my sister Linda and I were already married and living on our own.?  We had a discussion about the aromas we remembered from 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 it did not bring me closer to 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 and baby blue eyes standing out like two vibrant stars in dramatic contrast to 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.

? 

? 

Carol Roach

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 na??ve. She did not know who she was or what she wanted from life.?  She only found herself in her middle years.

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. They were gracious enough to let her know she had one and 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 with her mother and sister; now and then.

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 when it could be said she still hardly knew her mother.

After my sister Linda and I were already married and living on our own.?  We had a discussion about the aromas we remembered from 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 it did not bring me closer to 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 and baby blue eyes standing out like two vibrant stars in dramatic contrast to 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.

? 

Carol Roach

winterose@videotron.ca

? 

? 

A Native of Montreal, Quebec, Carol is a graduate of Concordia, and McGill University.?  She holds a bachelor in psychology and a Masters in counselling psychology.?  Carol Roach is a published writer and newsletter editor.?  You can purchase her book: Picking up the Pieces: A Woman's Journey at www.publishamerica.com, or www.amazon.com.?  You can also go to your local bookstore and order it there as well.?  Carol??™s second book: Angels Watching Over is currently looking for a home. Stay tuned for details. ? 

? 

If you are interested in other stories feel free to join her newsletter: Storytime Tapestry at: http://subs.zinester.com/98907 , or email her directly at winterose@videotron.ca and she will be glad to accommodate you.?  Carol enjoys email and responds to every inquiry.