So there I was, stirring my Nonie's recipe for Magic French Fudge when I realized that this was Nonie's recipe. Why did I choose to make my Nonie's fudge? Well, it's good. It's easy. And It used to be that Christmas wasn't complete without it. But this year? It wasn't because I wanted to relive any particular memory or moment with my Nonie. Stirring the fudge didn't remind me of a time when I made it with her, nor did it make me miss her. And that's what made me sad.
Recipes, to me, are a sort of heirloom, a connection between those who came before me and those who will follow. Some of my favorite keepsakes from my extended family are their recipes; it's a way for me to warmly remember particular moments in time with them, to relive those memories with my senses one more time.
But really, right now there aren't any memories I want to relive. I guess I'm still upset about what happened, or hurt, more likely. See, my Nonie doesn't speak to me anymore. And to be fair, I don't really speak to her either. When I called to share the news that I was engaged (almost two years ago now), she responded with ire. She was completely unsupportive, angry over hurt feelings from the previous Christmas and upset she hadn't been consulted before I agreed to marry my husband. Later on, she told my dad that I told her I hated her during that conversation, something which told me the truth of the whole thing: Nonie didn't really know me. If she did, she would know that I would never say such a thing to her. She would know that I really loved her. She would know that by calling her, I was including her in my life and my decisions. Clearly, she doesn't know me. Perhaps she never really did.
Making fudge should have brought back warm memories of Christmases past with my Nonie and Grandpa Guzman. It should have put me in a merry mood, one that was contagious and festive. Instead, it made me frustrated with my kitchen and indifferent about the history of the recipe or the memories it holds.
And here I go, packaging it up and giving it to some folks to wish them a merry christmas. Perhaps I need to adjust my attitude a bit before I give it away? I think yes. I'm just not sure how to do it.
2 comments:
I didn't know you were blogging again! Yay! I'm just sorry I forgot to check again until now.
Your Nonnie sounds a bit like my gram-gram. We don't get to choose our family, do we? I wonder what you think about the phrase "Hurting people, hurt people". Sometimes another person's pain is so great they can't even fathom other people's pain. What has happened to your Nonnie in her lifetime? How else would a Nonnie be capable of attacking her own granddaughter?
Her pain when she attacked you must have been real. Either that or she truly has a mental health issue. Could even be both. You can't change Nonnie but you can change the way you see/experience her.
My professor said this once: "Forgiveness without justice is religious malpractice" and it really stuck with me. Maybe some day you will be able to acknowledge your hurt AND the good times.
Whatever the case, I think it's good to be thinking about these things. Hope it's okay I shared my thoughts. I just can't imagine how anyone could hurt you, sweet girl!
Yay for blogging again! Yeah, I started this other blog over the summer, but it turned out that I couldn't keep up with two (I've had a hard enough time with one, for crying out loud!) I love it, and in the past few weeks, I've realized just how much it helps me sort through what I'm going through or experiencing. Plus, I love writing. It's a part of who I am, and lately I've felt a bit detached from myself. I realized that however inconsistent it might be, I can squeeze blogging into my days here at home much easier than I can do a lot of other things that make me feel "normal". Anyway, I'm just babbling now, but yes: I'm back!
So many good thoughts here--too many to touch on at the moment. I got your email as well, and I will be responding to it soon. I think I just need a few days to chew on it. (And for the record, I LOVE getting your insight--I don't mind your comments at all! Thank you for taking the time to write them!).
To make it brief, I think you're right: hurting people hurt people. I know she must still be carrying some baggage from her past, but the funny thing is that I just don't know what it is--and neither does my dad. We know very little about her past. Oh, we know the basics, but we don't know about the personal things. My dad says that she doesn't share much; she's never been one to get terribly personal, even with her own family. When we ask? She doesn't seem to want to talk about it much. For a long time, I chalked it up to indifference about her family of origin, but now? I'm certain there must be some really tough stuff there that she just doesn't want to talk about.
Anyway, I like that quote from your professor. I'm going to chew on that one too.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for responding. And most of all? Thanks for being real. I think that's one of my favorite things about you. You're the real deal, Mel. I so wish we lived closer to you!
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