There was a photo on someone's blog this spring with a little girl joyfully lifting up her face to the sunshine and lilacs.
I didn't smell the lilacs this year.
With all the lovely and beautiful things that bless my life, smell won't be one of them, not ever again.
You don't think about how much you use it until you lose it.
I remember wallking by the irises this spring and thinking, "I don't smell those."
But I thought I would, I really did, I thought this thing in my head would someday succomb to antibiotics and my life would be back to "normal" again.
But it won't.
I won't smell flowers again.
I won't smell dirty diapers again.
I won't smell the fresh "after the rain" smell.
I won't smell that lovely smell of wood smoke, or burning in the kitchen, or skunks, or natural gas.
Once the olfactory nerve is gone--it's gone.
But I have a lot of other things.
I can see, I can hear, I can live, I have family, I have friends.
I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face and I can remember...
I can remember that I loved to smell.
And I didn't take that for granted.