Taste and Memory

Marking my mom's life on the anniversary of her death

I’ve started to cook like my mom. Well not exactly like her. More like I’m trying to channel her these days by cooking the food she made when we were kids… but without any recipes to follow.

My mom’s recipe book was a black and white marble composition notebook, quite literally bulging, full of clippings and handwritten notes, collected over who knows how long, and was sadly lost in the chaos of her passing. I know that because I went looking for it and didn’t find a trace.

So I started making a list of everything I could possibly remember. At first I could only recall 6 or 7 dishes; like her cream of mushroom soup or steamed cauliflower with velveeta cheese (yep, it was the 90’s). But, just cooking her food so intentionally has already begun unlocking memories upon memories, and now that list is several dozen deep.

I’m on a mission to recreate it all and write the recipes down again. For her, for me, for my siblings, and especially for Loosha. In doing so, I am using the connection between taste and memory to take my grief journey in a totally new direction.

I call it using my MouthBrain™.

This is the way I’m marking the anniversary of her passing this year. I will cook my mom’s food and tell Loosha, “This is just how Grandma Sharon would make it”. And we will do bath time and I will make a bubble beard on Loosha’s chin just like my mom used to. And we will read books in bed and I will sing her one of Grandma Sharon’s favorite songs. And without a doubt I will cry thinking of all the things she has missed in all these years. And I will start to think about what to say when Loosha is old enough to ask “Where is Grandma Sharon?”. Because I will want to answer her fairly and let her know the truth without scaring her.

Wishing myself and all who knew her a Happy Grandma Sharon Day.