Man, the flash makes that bead-heart look so garish. Then again, how else would a heart on display look? We all look away when someone is crying in public, whom we don't know. Sneaking glances. Because seeing a raw heart, seeing a naked heart, is rare, and we wish nothing more.
Yet we fear to look, we act as if looking might burn, because it just might.

I hadn't been aware of Mister Rogers until a couple of years ago. I can't even recall how I came across him, there was a show, or some article online, or a Twitch marathon. I dunno.
But that warm and comfortable feeling. We might scoff at it, but we all long for it.
Even if we don't want to be led, we want to know there's someone whom we can trust, to shelter us, to be a safe and warm flannel haven.
And you touch on that. Smell is the sense most related to memories - smells invoke memories more than other senses, and smell is also invoked by our memories more.

And so, your grandfather is a presence. Sense is a physical sensation, quite so. And in being remembered as a scent, he's a physical sensation to you each time you recall him.
And you know it, even if the sense-relatedness might not be the obvious cause:

Your energy though,
has never left me;

He's watching you from the edge of dreams. His presence there, like an adult overlooking children playing in the garden, is what allows them to feel safe, even when out of sight. Not out of mind, nor out of heart.

I’m forever a bud of a child,
nourished by you,
during harsh-times and waterless-days.

Beautiful, and I feel, related to the same imagery.