Friday, April 10, 2009

The night we drove to the hospital, after receiving the call that something had happened with Grandma, I cried. "She never taught me to make her vegetable soup" I eeked out through my tears. It sounds trite, but it represented many things left undone or unsaid, not just a bowl of hearty-delicious soup.
I decided to ask around and see if I might be able to find the recipe, and I was so thankful when my aunt sent me step-by-step instructions. Last night as I stood at the counter cutting the veggies, browning the meat and pouring in the copious amounts of V-8 I felt a little healing happening in my soul.
And tonight, as our friends dished up bowl after bowl and said "This is delicious" I knew Grandma would be pleased. It made the experience all the better that I could say "That's my Grandma's recipe, I have always loved her soup."

1 comment:

Kari said...

My grandma (my best friend) passed away 7 years ago very suddenly. Years prior she had taught me how to crochet and it was only months before she died that she re-taught me so I could make a big, fluffy afghan for my husband (then bf). I was away at college the morning she passed and when I called Casey to tell him, I painfully realized and cried, "She never showed me how to finish your blanket." Of course, I DID finish it with a little guidance and I've since gone on to make a few others. I used what she taught me to learn new stitches and I know she'd be proud.

Needless to say, I completely understand and whenever you write about your grandma I feel like you're taking the thoughts straight out of my head.