The art of freezing time

The last time I saw her, my grandmother waved good-bye to me at her doorstep. A week later, she was gone. Forever.

Along with her there was an extended world that was lost as well. I wish I could preserve that world. As I reflect, there were three parts to that world.

Stories

She lived in an age where story telling was everything. Stories taught morals, built character, helped kids see a world much bigger than their immediate village and demonstrated role models. Her world was full of stories. There were no books required. They just rolled out of her mind weaving magic, night after night, till my eyes shut. I am sure I slept midway through some of stories and my subconscious completed them in my sleep. The loving combination of her warm smell, wrinkled hands, grey eyes and calming touch.

The imagery so vivid that as I tell my kids a small fraction of what I remember, I unknowingly follow her diction and gestures. I wish I captured the million stories she had in her mind. That would have been a best-seller.

Recipes

The quaint ancestral family home was amidst a large farm. She was a child of the soil, so much that she could predict when a root vegetable underground would be ready to be plucked out. One ate vegetables that grew around one’s home. Her recipes were simple, organic, balanced and mouth-watering. She would make a small trip around her vegetable garden and create delicious meals within 30 minutes. I regret that I never asked for the recipes for many of them. I am still searching for those tastes at restaurants, food trucks, other people’s homes or pot-lucks.

Traditions

We live a certain way. It seems to work! In many cultures, there is a reason for the way things are. Parents pass them onto children. Somewhere along the process the story line broke or got misinterpreted. The song line stopped. Along with it answers too. Answers to rational questions like “why should we be doing this”. My grandma passed on a lot of traditions to me. Some with reasons. She didn’t know the reasons for some. I did not care to ask for some. I wish I asked.

If even one grandchild reading this is triggered to preserve a few stories, recipes or traditions, it has achieved its purpose.

Have you preserved a story or a recipe or a tradition? I am keen to know.