Aftershave
Last week I entered an elevator and I was hit with the scent of familiar aftershave. I knew there was no way that my dad was in town to surprise me with a visit, but I couldn’t help looking around in hopes that I would find him getting on at the next floor with a smile on his face.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Someone else in my neighborhood must be using the same aftershave as my dad, but the lingering scent in the elevator reminded me of daddy. As my husband says, the aftershave that my dad uses is old fashioned, but I can’t imagine him wearing anything else.
He has literally worn it for as long as I can remember, and according to my mom, he was wearing that same brand when they met back in 1963. I guess that would definitely make it a classic in terms of staying power. These days, I don’t know anyone who wears that aftershave other than my dad, so when I smell it, the memories we’ve had as father and daughter flood my mind, bring a smile to my face and a tear in my eye. I miss living so far away from him and mom. I can’t wait to see them again, and smell that familiar scent of his aftershave that tells me I’m home. 
