Fall has descended upon the Midwest and ever so slowly, the leaves are beginning their shift from deep green to the various colors and hues that mark this season with its beauty. The weather is still warm and has been fairly sunny, but the grey skies will eventually come and blanket us with the inevitable permacloud that sticks around… well, pretty much until summer.
Still it remains one of my favorite times of the year. I leave with camera in hand, driving the back roads of Michigan with the colors flying by on each side, the swirl of leaves behind the car, the upbeat pop sounds giving way to the more moody ambient mixes on the playlist, and once again trading the Pink Drink for hot chocolates.
So here were are… it’s October, year 2 of the pandemic still in process. Almost a year ago I got COVID and lost my sense of smell which still has not returned. I deal with phantom smells and bad smells, but more often than not, I don’t smell anything at all. I miss that. The smell of the air and the earth after a rain, the smoke from a wood fire, fresh cut grass, the smell of gasoline as I pour it into the chainsaw, of paint and construction, of flowers and fields and woods — and that doesn’t even begin to describe the smells of food, drink, and familiar household scents like clean laundry, cologne and body wash, and the smell of friends and animals and … yeah. I am an admin in a support group of (now nearly 40,000) folks that deal with with this same loss, and reading the stories and posts of those who suffer from it is hard. I have talked about it before but the loss of a sense is significant. Many people don’t get it or think that people are making more of it than it is. It’s significant. It impacts you emotionally. A lot of people are dealing with depression and discouragement. Many have lost the desire to do things that they were once passionate about. When life smells like rotten meat — from your children’s hair, to your husband’s breath, to your favorite cologne — it can be hard to get past that every day. The effects of COVID linger, and for those like me, who are a year or more with this, we tend to have a different outlook than those who had mild cases with no lasting effects. I am so glad for them. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. The emotional toll is markedly intense.
In all of it, as I have been saying since I have written a few times about this, we need to be understanding and encouraging and practice kindness and empathy. That’s why I joined the Facebook group. I read a story of a mom whose teenage son had lost so much weight because everything tasted like spoiled meat and she was desperate to find hope. Even though I can’t offer medical advice, I can offer a “word fitly spoken — like a glass of cold water, or a refreshing rain in the summer” — it brings encouragement and life.
In the midst of all the stress, tension, anxiety and loss that this pandemic has brought, may we be those who will partner with the Divine and offer an oasis of hope and a place of peace and safety — with our words and our actions. May we present truthfulness and self-control and not participate in fear-mongering and negativity. May we sow kindness and gentleness. And above all, may people know us by our love — in word and in deed.
Grace and peace.
Well said. I’m sorry your sense of smell has been absent this long year. For as long as I can remember you have been a guy who revels in all the different scents around you — well minus the terrible ones. I know first-hand how great scents brought a smile to your face. They were always part of the hospitality you would include for your friends and guests. Things looked good and your house always had a great scent too. It was that black candle from Yankee Candle. Midsummer something?
In any event I am looking forward to hearing your sense of smell has returned. One day. One day soon I hope.
Josh, I too mourn with you over your experience with anosmia and parosmia. I have been so encouraged to watch you navigate the waters of this challenge with courage and hope (even though I know there are days when you feel little of either). I know that you are helping so many people who are now experiencing a similar struggle. We’ll continue to pray for the day when eggs smell like eggs and candles smell like a cologne saturated jar of wax (midsummer night). 🙂