Scent memory.

This is from my writing course. The prompt today had to do with smells sparking a memory. 

The last 7 months were full of hospital smells. And dirty hair. Have you ever tried to bathe a flailing kid with a central line? It'll make you take all of your calming deep breaths  and counting backwards and singsong voice just to garner the energy. I just didn't bother more often than not. So I remember the smell of Eli's dirty hair. I want to smell it forever.
The other day I was looking for something under my sink and I found an old bottle of aveeno baby wash. I stared at it for a minute, and then mustered the courage to open the sticky top and take a whiff. It smelled nice, but it didn't smell like Eli. And that was actually better.
Eli had dirty hair because I always ascribed to the theory that letting your kids have a few extra germs was good for their immune system. Except Eli actually didn't have an immune system, so maybe I was just slowly killing him by not washing his hair enough. I didn't, couldn't have known it, but it's still true.
I do remember the smell of his unwashed hair and how long it got in the hospital. I finally couldn't take it anymore and I watched YouTube videos until I thought I could manage a little boys haircut. It wasn't a terrible cut. I touched it up for a couple of days, as I saw pieces sticking out. Until it started falling out from the pre-transplant chemo. Then we buzzed it.
I want to smell Eli, but all of his stuff just smells either clean or like a hospital. There was always bodily fluid getting on his shirts and blankies in the PICU, so we were always rotating both. One being worn or snuggled, one being washed. Now they just smell clean.