The line from Norah Jones’ song In the Morning, “Funny how my favorite shirt smells more like you than me…” is a poignant reminder of the potent connection between memory and smell. British Sterling cologne is my father and always will be. My sister wore Halston when she was in high school. My first perfume as a child was Heaven Sent. Red is a foggy morning at the Grey Whale Inn in Ft. Bragg on my honeymoon. Opium is college long winter coats and college winters in Washington, DC. Some scents can reassure, calling into my space the sense of a loved one’s presence, even though they are miles away. I can envelope myself in their signature as if their arms encircle me.