I'm Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown.

I have a collection of Cologne's accumulating on my dresser.

They are in close proximity to each other, looking like a lute skyline of glassware.

I only make use of their fragrances during special occasions and holidays.

Whenever I reach for one of the smoky brown or sky blue colored bottles, they put me

in mind of my grandparents.

Their bedroom resembled a perfumery.

Certain scents carry over time the essence of their existence.

Both revered elegance, sartorial awareness, and personal style as statements of personality.

My grandmother, a self-taught milliner, loved Sundays.

If for nothing else, as an occasion to wear her flamboyant hats to church.

I wonder, what habits, what objects will casually trigger for my children, a remembrance of

me, and what I cared about?

Will it be the dinner parties?

I host it that will make them value friendship, laughter, and late night conversations.

Or perhaps, they will remember the towers of books in my home office they gently stepped

around.

Or will they recall my belief in service and the worth and power of people to positively

impact communities, which drives my participation on non-profit boards.

Who we are today, and eventually, who we are in memory grants our loved ones access

to modes of living.

It can be these small practices like spritzing a cologne bottle that ensure meaning and

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