Friday, July 18, 2008

"Think of me and try to make each and every moment of your lives as spectacular as possible."

I love this quote because I think this is what the memory of those who have passed on does for us. Those kinds of memories offer small moments of repose, a moment frozen in time, sweet in its preservation and a world away from our current journey.

Last night I had eaten only half of my dinner, but got incredibly hungry a few hours later. I needed to have some "fuel" for my run, so I thought of having a piece of toast. Instead, I turned to peanut butter, and immediately thought "honey would be good with that". Let me assure you: I have never eaten honey and peanut butter together like this in my entire adult life.

I'm standing there, mixing my refrigerator chilled Smart Balance peanut butter with a tablespoon or so of honey on a paper plate, smooshing it with a fork . . . when all of the sudden a memory comes flooding back to me.

I'm a kid of about 9 or 10. We - me and my siblings and cousins and my papa - are all squeezed side by side in the booth around the kidney bean shaped table in gramma's kitchen. Papa, who's sitting in the middle with grandkids spread out on each side of him, has a plate piled huge with butter, peanut butter, and honey.

We're all leaning forward, pushing off the back of the booth seats with our feet, pushing as far forward on the table as we can to see and leaning on elbows and arms to get a better view. He's mixing and he's mixing - all the while telling us some story or another. When the mixing is complete, he reaches his big, working hand into the bag of bread and pulls out several pieces. He tosses one piece in front of each of us like he's dealing cards.

Some of us hold the bread between our two hands, holding it carefully and waiting for his "ok" to dig in. Others of us begin to pull off all the crust and smoosh our bread into a big ball. Still others start tearing the bread into long strips. No matter the method, we all - Papa included - stretch out our hands, bread in our fingers, and dip the bread into the gooey mess Papa has just mixed up.

20 years later, his oldest granddaughter thinks of this and hopes that wherever he is, he knows how special he was.

[Title quote is from "Jack"]


Kristine said...

I do that more now then ever since my Grandma passed. She would always find the best parking spaces, even before she got the handicap sticker and so now, everytime I get a good one I thank her... and think of her.

Oh and funny you knew my sign...was that cause you knew my bday or do I give myself away...

Nichole said...

Kristine, I know your sign because I made a mental note back when we were VT companions. Told you I'm a little obsessed!

Kimberly said...

What a beautiful topic to mull over. Thank you.

Trina said...

i saw that quote and the pic of the pb and knew exactly what this blog was about. i have only done that a few times for my kids cuz it makes me a little sad, somehow funny that it doesn't taste the same though. i was sitting about two days ago thinking that it sounded really good to eat and i had no honey~ which was even sadder.

Miranda said...

I totally have tears in my eyes right now after reading that. I remember it like it was yesterday~even though I was younger. What an awesome memory!

Jen said...

that is so sweet! I wish I had memories like that for any of my grandparents! I love reading things like that and knowing my kids will get to have fun grandparents and fun memeories! (mine weren't dead, just mean)

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