Her hugs smelled like mothballs and Big Red. She was the perfect grandma; strong arms perfect for carrying me when I was tired, strong legs perfect for walking me to the park, yet she was squishy around the middle which made her perfect for cuddling.
One summer I spent two weeks at her house. It also smelled like mothballs. I spent a lot of time looking for them. In the closet, there was no sign of them though the smell was there. In her drawers, under the bed, there was nothing there either, but the smell was everywhere.
I knew what the smell was because I saw her buy them at Cheap John’s when she’d come visit me, and my mother and sister. The boxes of mothballs would be stacked on a table and one would always be open so there would be little white balls all over the table and the floor. She’d go to Cheap John’s and buy two boxes of mothballs, two boxes of garbage bags and two ten packs of Big Red every Saturday when she came to visit us.
It wasn’t a bad smell. It was just a strange smell and for me it was comforting. My aunt wore Elizabeth Arden, my mother wore L’Air Du Temps, my grandmother wore mothballs and Big Red and she wore them well. I only looked for the mothballs that one summer. After all my fruitless efforts I decided I liked the mystery as much as I liked the smell.
My grandmother passed away on the Mother’s Day after my wedding. She had grown old and frail and was no longer squishy in the middle, but her hugs still smelled like mothballs and Big Red. I helped my aunt go through her things and in the bottom of her closet, way in the back I found a small white envelope. In it were three tiny white balls. Mothballs. Disintegrated mothballs, but mothballs just the same.
In her drawers I found the same white envelopes and the same white balls of varying sizes. I laughed out loud at each one I found. The mystery had been solved. One last lesson from grandma.
A few years later I had a child. His dark hair and hazel green eyes echoed my grandmother’s. He had strong little arms and strong little legs and he was squishy around the middle.
One night in the hospital, as he lay in bed with me, I smelled something familiar. My little one was surrounded by the smell of mothballs and Big Red. One last gift from grandma.
