Light & Lore Reflection: Memory

Sometimes scent feels like a time machine. One breath, and I’m somewhere else entirely — sitting in my nana’s kitchen, spicy cinnamon in the air; she loved a cinnamon candle because she said it would cover onion and garlic cooking smells, lol.

October holds a kind of quiet. It’s the in-between, the gentle pause before winter deepens. The leaves are mostly gone, the air turns metallic, and the light itself seems to remember things.

I’ve always believed that scent is memory made visible. It lingers, even when the moment itself has gone. When I pour candles I think about that, the stories they’ll hold once they’re lit. Maybe someone will burn Hibernate on their first night in a new home. Maybe Welcome will flicker through a family dinner. (This is the one that i created with my nana's kitchen in mind, though I have a good friend who also loves cinnamon hearts, so this one is with her in mind too. Maybe St. Pat’s Church will carry a memory of faith or stillness or someone loved and missed.

Memory isn’t something we can summon; it drifts in when it wants to. But we can make space for it — by slowing down, by noticing what the air smells like, how the light feels, who we miss, and what still warms us.

This month, I’m lighting candles for what endures — for the stories still held in scent and flame.

Creating Light in Memory

If you’d like to honor someone close to you, I do offer custom memorial candles. You can choose from any scent in my Essentials or Seasonal collections, and I’ll rename the label with a name, quote, or phrase that feels personal. Each one is poured with care — meant to bring warmth, comfort, and a quiet place to remember. I can share a scent overview and pricing guide anytime — just let me know what feels right for you.

Light something today that brings a memory close, and let it keep you company awhile.