“A perfume once reserved for special occasions was now worn on trips to the hospital for either surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy.”

Abbie and her Mum

“Smelling those comforting vanilla tones of my mother’s Armani Code perfume always made me feel at ease. Only ever used for special occasions, this was the perfume she wore for weddings or dinner with my dad – events where she wanted to look, feel and smell her best. She always had been a sucker for a compliment when it comes to fragrance.

Ever since I was young I would associate that somewhat orangey smell with my mother looking her best. With her favourite jewellery and her hair done to perfection, she looked like a princess in my eyes. I was always so proud to see her walk out of a room looking incredible on the arm of my father. 21 years of marriage later and she still liked to dress up and walk out hand-in-hand with her husband, feeling and looking like a million dollars.

It wasn’t until two years ago, when my mother was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer, that she decided she wouldn’t have a need to leave the house making a huge effort, and she couldn’t bothered to attend any type of fancy event that she used to love. She simply didn’t have the physical or mental energy to do so.

I noticed the Armani Code bottle put to the back of her long line of fragrances, each reserved for different occasions, knowing that I wouldn’t be smelling it any time soon.

After some time, my mother realised that to fight the battle that had been thrust upon her, she needed to make the effort to get dressed up, in order to remind her of the person that she used to be before this evil disease targeted her body.

A perfume once reserved for special occasions was now worn on trips to the hospital for either surgery, chemotherapy or radiotherapy.

Despite her needing to shower before some treatments and having to wash away that special scent, she knew it was there and it reminded her of happier, stronger times. A lady once wearing her fanciest dress, diamonds and heels with a spritz of Armani Code was now in a hospital gown, slippers and a cold cap, but she still smelled like her glamorous self.

It sounds so small and trivial but this is something that reminds me of how far my mother has come as not only a parental figure, but as a woman in her own right. Some may think this smell reminds me of the darker, cancer times when I was wondering if I was going to lose her forever but it really doesn’t. It reminds me of the woman who made jokes about losing her hair and which wig style would suit her most – we settled on the idea that perhaps a long, fire engine red wig wouldn’t quite suit her after all.

Some say a smell is something that stays with you forever and this is certainly the case for me. I feel safe when I smell that faint orange scent of my mother around me, and even when she isn’t at home, that comforting, familiar scent still lingers.

Armani Code is no longer reserved for special occasions, and I really can’t imagine the day where it’ll ever be pushed to the back of the dressing table again.”

– Abbie McBean