I can remember my grandfather would sit in his chair in what he called the television room. It was dark, lit by a tall lamp with a patterned fringed lampshade.
There was an old gas fireplace which was surrounded by small ornaments and items that he had collected.
Next to the chair there was a large ashtray in which he kept his pipe.
This was the smell that first greeted me when I came into the house although not what you probably assume to be an unpleasant stale smell but a comforting subtle smell.
Even after my grandfather passed away this smell still lingered and when we cleared his house I knew that this was the one item I had to keep as whenever I smelt it, it reminded me so much of him.