When my dad passed away last June, I shared it in a way that was probably more raw and personal than most “business updates” are meant to be.
At the time, I wasn’t thinking about branding or optics. I was thinking about how strange it felt to keep showing up to work, answering emails, and making soap when someone so central to my life was suddenly gone.
Emails started coming in. Messages. Notes. Comments. From customers, regulars, and people I’d never met in person.
The quiet expressions of care from customers and friends and people I’ve never even met in person… they were overwhelming in the best way. It felt like being wrapped in warmth when I didn’t quite know how to hold myself together yet.
I will never forget that.
Around that time, several customers and members of my staff gently suggested that I create something in his honor.
At first, I brushed it off.
“Maybe someday,” I thought.
It felt too close. Too tender. Too big.
But the idea stayed.
And it evolved into something nearly tangible in my mind's eye.
I could see the color.
I could smell the scent.
I could feel the tone of it.
It lived in my head for a long time before I ever touched a formula.
As the idea took shape, I kept coming back to who he was and what mattered most to him. My dad was a speech pathologist who spent much of his career working with autistic children and adults. He was a quiet man. A gentle giant. Patient. Principled. Steady.
He was also endlessly supportive of this little business of mine.
He read my newsletters.
He wrote back.
He used my products.
He told people about them.
He celebrated every milestone, no matter how small.
He was proud of me in a way that was never loud, never showy. Just constant.
Reliable.
The vision was already clear in my head, but it still took time and trial and error to get it right. Halcyon blends bright notes of bergamot, mandarin, and juniper with grounding woods, soft florals, and deep, earthy base notes of sandalwood, oakmoss, and wild musk.
The name “Halcyon” means calm, peaceful, and serene. A pocket of stillness in the middle of everything else.
That felt right.
When it came time to choose a release date, his 75th birthday felt like the only one that made sense.
This bar is also tied to something that mattered deeply to him: advocacy and support for the autistic community. A portion of each Halcyon purchase will be donated to Echoing Hope Ranch and the Tucson Alliance for Autism, two organizations that help raise awareness and aid people with intellectual and developmental disabilities.
It is my small way of continuing the work he believed in.
Most people who pick up this bar will do so because they like the way it smells. And that’s exactly as it should be. Soap should first and foremost be a pleasure to use.
But for those who are curious about its story, I hope Halcyon feels like what it represents.
A piece of comfort.
A quiet steadiness.
A reminder that even in loss, something good can grow.
I can’t say I captured my dad in a bar of soap. That would be impossible. How do you convey wit, or the way his eyes twinkled when he laughed, or the way he observed the world, in something you hold in your hand?
How do you show the depth of what it means to be his daughter in lather and scent?
You can’t. Not really.
But I had to try.
And while what I came up with will never show you the full man he was, the man who helped raise me to be who I am, I know he would like it. I know it would catch his eye. I know the scent would grab him. I can see him holding it to his nose, closing his eyes, and breathing it in in the way he always did with something he really enjoyed.
And if that’s as close as I get, then I will have succeeded.
To everyone who offered kindness, patience, and grace during one of the hardest seasons of my life: thank you.
You helped make this possible.
More than just soap. Get your Halcyon.
3 comments
🥜❤️
What a perfect tribute to your Dad, Amber. You’ve made him very very proud and he would be ordering a case of his “Halcyon”. He was that quiet steadiness we’ve all depended on and are trying to carry on with what his wishes might be for each of us. Thank you for that sweet vision of his smelling the beautiful scents you’ve created over the years. A smile much needed.
Love this tribute to your dad. My niece is a speech pathologist also and works with autistic kids in Massachusetts, but I love Arizona.