Growing up, my dad wore Old Spice. Often too thick, the scent could be overwhelming to the senses, almost to the point of tasting it when first applied. I remember him bending down to kiss my cheek as he'd leave for work, whispering an "I love you" as he went on his way; his movement leaving an Old Spice cloud throughout my room, burning my half-opened eyes. Although I gave him gifts of popular, not inexpensive scents, Old Spice was his preferred eau de toilette. No matter where it was placed (hidden?) on his dresser, he'd always grab the off-white, ship logo'd bottle with the plastic insert top as his first choice. It wasn't my favorite cologne on him, to say the least. Yet, when he passed, it was the one thing that reminded me of him the most; still does.

Today, as I rummage through his belongings, I can still smell his Old Spice lingering amongst the fading photos and lasting memories, and I am grateful for its potency.