A hush settles over the edges of my day,
soft as the first breath of morning.
Then—drifting through the quiet—
comes the familiar trace
of Dr. Barry’s perfume.
It moves like a memory I never had to learn,
warm as a hand resting lightly on my shoulder,
steady as someone saying you’re safe here,
without speaking at all.
In that scent, the world slows.
The air feels kinder.
The room gathers itself around me,
like a blanket someone tucked in
before stepping away.
And though nothing has changed—
the same walls, the same hours—
I breathe it in,
and comfort rises in me
as naturally as a tide returning home.
For in that fragrance lives a quiet promise:
that softness endures,
that care lingers,
and that sometimes
a single scent
is enough to hold me together again.
Therapy Bits 
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