January was the longest Monday in history! I literally woke up on January 1st to news that my very vibrant, hardly ever sick, grandmother had suffered three major seizures, which resulted in two strokes on both sides of her brain. The doctors said, she'll never see again. They said that she would need a feeding tube in her stomach...permanently. My family and I leaned on each other, and tried to figure out the best course of action. We moved her to a long care facility in hopes that extensive rehabilitation would make a difference. Today, grandma is home, giving orders, and asking about her Coach tennis shoes. She's back. Just as sassy, jazzy, and bossy as ever. Miracle? Maybe. God? Definitely.
During the time my grandmother was unconscious, in a very sedated state, so many thoughts and emotions bombarded my mind. Will I live in a world where my maternal grandmother and grandfather are gone? What will Sunday dinner look like? Will my family drift apart? Who's gonna hold it down?
If you are a woman in your thirties, you're probably already burning up the kitchen every Sunday afternoon. I kinda got a late start. There are some things I do well, and there are some things that I wouldn't dare try to cook unless I am the ONLY taste tester in sight. Just being real. My grandmother is constantly asking me to write down her special recipes...for years. Before, cooking wasn't such a high priority so I didn't see the need to take hours out of my busy day to write down endless instructions for German Chocolate cakes and homemade biscuits. All that changed on January 1st. Not because I would no longer be able to delight in the tastiness of those scrumptious recipes. It kinda felt like those recipes were apart of my memory, my history with my grandmother. All those lazy summer days of licking the cake bowl, playing in coconut layers, buttering biscuits, and tasting teacakes. There would be nothing to pass down. I even asked my Aunts if they had the recipes and they hadn't bothered to get them either.
Needless to say, as soon as she's settled and rested, I will be visiting with pencil and paper in hand. My grandmother expresses love through her confections. It is important to her. It took almost losing her for me to measure just how important those things are to me.