Now, you may be wondering what hands have to do with a smell...
Well, this is the hand of my hard working husband.
Cracked,
Dry,
and Stained with Grease, Grime, and Dirt...
I'm a Daddy's Girl.
AND
I was his emotional kid. His snuggler. His tender heart who found comfort and safety in his embrace.
My favorite place to be was on his lap, head resting on his shoulder, breathing in his smell.
My Dad is a Mechanic.
He always smelled like gas, grease, dirt...
All the things that go along with being a Mechanic and working in a shop.
Throughout my childhood I grew to love the smell of my dirty mechanic dad.
It was a comforting smell.
A safe smell.
.
.
.
.
Now, as an adult, it is a smell I absolutely love and adore.
Still comforting.
Still safe.
It's been said you marry someone who has similarities to your parents.
And I did.
My husband is a Mechanic.
He has that same comforting smell as my dad...
When he gets home from work I hug him, kiss him, and breathe in his smell...
I find comfort and safety in the embrace of those hard working hands...
The ones that resemble my Dad's so much.
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