Have you ever had one of those moments where a sound, smell, or taste brought a flood of memories when you weren’t the least bit expecting it?
I was blessed with really amazing grandmothers. They couldn’t have been more different, but one thing they did have in common was love for family and traditions. My Grandma Perdaems’ chicken noodle soup on Christmas Day was a childhood constant that I looked forward to every year. All winter long, there was always a big plastic jar of my Grandma Marsh’s homemade borscht soup in our fridge. We were always scooping out bowl fulls for weekend lunches. I can’t taste either kind of soup to this day with out comparing it to my grandmas,’ and the modern day versions just never quite measure up.
I really regret not taking the time to learn more from them while they were alive. My grandma made the noodles for her soup from scratch. Oh how I wish I could do that today with Grace and Kaylee for our own homemade versions. Let’s be honest, with the help of YouTube and my kitchen-master sisters, I’m sure I could figure it out, and what better time than now? But it won’t be the same as if I’d learned from her, watching her hands add the ingredients or knead the dough.
The thought of making borscht soup is completely overwhelming, and that’s probably because my grandma would make a whole winter’s worth of soup at the end of every gardening season. It was a days-long project of chopping, simmering, and storing. I do have memories of being around her doing it, but I wish I’d have done it again later in life so I remembered the details. I will never forget the amazing smell!
My sister Jen and I did spend a wonderful day with our Grandma Marsh years ago making kolaches. Of all of the foods I associate most with my grandmothers and memories, it’s kolaches. These sweet-filled pieces of dough were something that both of them made and were present at every single holiday. I’m almost sad to say that I haven’t made them again since that day she taught us. Add that to the list of #stayhome projects we can still do.
My grandmas have been on my mind a lot this week, and I think it’s because of an experience I had the other day that gave me such a strong memory. Grace and I (all the kids really, but her the most) have spent a ton of time in the kitchen together since we’ve been staying home. It’s definitely a #brightside to this whole experience. We’ve been trying lots of new recipes and one of them was for refrigerator pickles. I saw the recipe on a facebook post my friend Michelle had made, and I told Grace I remembered having them as a kid. At that point, I didn’t specifically associate them with my grandma, I just thought she’d like them. So we mixed the salt, vinegar, sugar etc along with the cucumber and onion slices in a mason jar, and put it out in the garage fridge. I didn’t think much more about them.
Fast forward ten days to when they were ready to eat. The kitchen was a buzz of dinner prep and whatever Grace was baking at the time. She and Lucas tried them first and were impressed, despite the fact that they still looked more like cucumbers than pickles. I grabbed a slice and threw it in my mouth, and I was immediately transported to my Grandma’s house. The instant memory of her was so powerful that it brought tears to my eyes. My hands flew up to my face, and I was stopped dead in my tracks. Grace and Lucas both wondered what was going on as I stood teary-eyed in that spot. It was my pleasure to describe to them what it felt like to almost feel a person that you loved so much and had such an influence on you. it was a great opportunity to share some more stories about my childhood and the memories we made together, both surrounding food and just in general.
With my grandmas on my mind so much, it’s made me think about the legacy that I’m leaving. What things will my children’s children remember about me? What smells, sounds, or tastes will they associate with my house?
Bringing it a little closer to now, it’s also made me think about what my kids will associate with this time of us all being home together. When their kids say, “What was it like to be quarantined in 2020?”, how will they answer? Will they talk about the family dinners they helped me make, the endless supply of baked goods, the Netflix shows, the hikes? Will Grace tell them about the refrigerator pickles? I sure hope so.
I’m not sure how much longer we will be living this simple life of long days and endless kitchen and quality time opportunities. But I think if either of my grandmas were here, they’d encourage us to cherish every moment. They’d tell us to try the new recipes, even if it will take all day to make. Learn the new card game, even if we’ll rarely have time to play it when this is all over. Play “dress up prom” even though there’s no dance to go to. They knew the importance of family and time and I’m so thankful they passed those feelings on to me. I think the refrigerator pickles were just the reminder I needed to think about how those two amazing women would have handled this and therefore caused their family to remember it.
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