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Nannie's Water Closet

An Olfactory Trip Down Memory Lane

By Shelley CarrollPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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Nannie's Water Closet
Photo by Alex Simpson on Unsplash

You know how certain fragrances can trigger memories?

My husband had just finished shaving as I walked by the bathroom door. I don’t know whether it was the shaving cream he had used or the soap by the sink or the fact that the bathroom window was open just a crack. Maybe it was the leftover steam from the shower or the fabric softener in the linens. Maybe it was something emanating from the garbage can. Maybe it was all of those things combined.

Regardless of what triggered it, the combination of scents that met my nostrils connected immediately with the recesses of my mind. I was instantly transported back in time to the bathroom at my Nannie’s house in Cape Wolfe, PEI.

This likely seems like an odd and possibly disgusting spark of memory, but it’s not gross to me – at least not in the context that it met my senses. In fact, I found it oddly comforting.

I used to find dimes all around the house, usually in the laundry or out on the road. To me, they were not just regular dimes. I considered them little reminders that my late grandmother was watching over me. That may seem childish or simple, but each time I found a dime, I would feel like my own personal guardian angel was sending me a sign, letting me know that she was “there” and offering me support and maybe a little hug.

However, I have not found any dimes lately.

So when the mixed bouquet of bathroom scents wafted my way on this particular morning, I felt a strange but pleasant sentiment wash over me.

My grandparent’s bathroom was an old closet in their farmhouse. It was located under the staircase and had been renovated and extended into part of the kitchen - their very first indoor outhouse with a tub and shower.

It wasn’t very big, but it was cozy. Moreover, it was loaded up with all kinds of interesting things – well, interesting if you were a nosy little kid like me.

There were lotions, cleaning products, fresh towels and face cloths from the clothes’ line. There may have been an Archie comic book or two or a couple of Reader’s Digest magazines. There was toothpaste and that smelly stuff grown-ups smear on you to soothe your sunburns. There were bandages and ointments and of course lots and lots of toilet paper.

Most summer days, the window would be open and you could smell the salt water coming in off the shore. You might get a scent of manure or diesel fuel. Somewhere off in the distance, you might even get a whiff of cigarette smoke.

It was a little refuge of sorts. The house would be jam-packed each summer with all of us grandkids, so it was a little spot to get some privacy and perhaps have a minute to oneself.

Looking back as an adult and as a mother myself, a forty-something woman pushing 50 with a broom, I have a sense of how a small little space and a few moments to oneself can be a sweet little retreat on occasion.

Nannie and Grampie raised six children over several years. They lived with Grampie’s parents. They experienced the highs and lows of farm life for over 54 years of marriage mixed in with personality clashes and family drama and health crises and all the things that simply happen with a house full of people – combined with all of the unpredictability of the weather, livestock and crops. They had their challenges. Nevertheless, they also had their crowning glories; their legacy includes thirteen grandchildren.

I wonder how often Nannie availed herself of that water closet so that it operated as her oasis. Maybe it served as a small little corner of the farm where she could just be by herself and have a good cry or a hearty laugh. Perhaps it was a safe spot where she could just be alone with her thoughts and feelings. Very likely, it was a place where she would not have to cook or clean or entertain or put on a face or take care of anyone except herself, even if just for a few minutes a day.

It wasn’t a dime this time.

The memory evoked from a bathroom aroma took me down a far more ponderous path.

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Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this little submission, please leave a heart. And if you REALLY REALLY liked it, please consider leaving a tip. More than anything, I hope it resonated with you and perhaps brought up some of your own fond memories. Take care and stay safe! Love, S xo

grandparents
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About the Creator

Shelley Carroll

Ms. Carroll is a 50-something year-old retired public servant and mother of three adult children. She and her partner Hal live in Amherst NS with a sweet, anxiety-ridden rescue dog. Shelley loves reading, running and red wine.

She/Her

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