Guest Post: Soup
Mi Nana (my grandmother) was not my favorite person. I thought she was racist, sexist, and petty. When I was little she would come and visit and steal my clothes to give to poorer relatives in Mexico. I learned to go through her luggage before she left to get my clothes out.
Don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t all bad and in all honesty she had lots of grandchildren and I am the only one who remembers her this way. This would lead most to believe that perhaps my feelings about her have more to do with me than her.
The thing is that I was an independent opinionated child. I did not want to learn to cook or sew or any of the other “female” things my Nana seemed to think would serve me well as an adult. They did not seem like tools as much as they felt like shackles.
Whenever she would come to visit I would initially be happy to see her and give her a warm embrace. After a couple of days, I would do my best to ignore her retelling of the same stories I’d heard a million times that always seemed to get more and more exaggerated. I mean honestly, maybe my grandfather did play poker with the Devil on a Greyhound bus, but I have a hard time believing the Devil had chicken feet. That’s just preposterous!
It was definitely a difficult relationship that made me define myself in opposition to my Nana. I don’t think she had the same issues. I think she loved me and was showing her love by imparting her wisdom; I just didn’t want to be imparted upon.
Even now that she has been dead for over a decade, I still struggle with our relationship. I wish I would have been more understanding as a child. I regret the lessons I missed learning because of my stubbornness.
We get along better now. She comes to me in dreams. She once sang to me “Y volver, volver, volver, a tus brazos otra vez” (To return, return, return, to your arms once again). She used to talk about people coming to her after they died and I would just roll my eyes. Now she comes to me.
There were many things I didn’t appreciate about my Nana, but one thing I always loved was her soup. My Nana made the best soup in the world. It didn’t matter what kind it was: albondigas, fideo, posole – it was all good! She would ask me if I wanted her to make me soup and I would always say, “Si, por favor!” I would watch her in the kitchen and as much as I tried not to learn I guess I did because I make really good soup, not as good as hers, but pretty damn good.
My daughter, Put Pie, is 11 months old and isn’t really into “food” I’ve tried giving her sweet potatoes, peas, bananas, you name it and she’s just not into it. Yesterday I made a big pot of soup because my mother is sick and I wanted to mother her. My husband poured some of the soup into a bowl and started feeding it to Put Pie and much to my surprise she loved it. She wanted more and kept saying, “Mmmm, mmm”. Can I tell you I just about started crying because my daughter likes my soup?!
My daughter likes my Nana’s soup! I’m crying right now because my Nana did love me and she did teach me and now she is loving and teaching my daughter through me.
great story! i’m a little teary myself! thanks for sharing it.
.-= beth´s last blog ..lord help me =-.
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@ifevolution on twitter.
said:
Thanks for sharing this great story with us!
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what a rookie i am. i didn’t know there were blogs for that sort of thing, product reviews and what not. i have blown over a few that were all ads and promotions and blinking icons. i think i will just keep finding more great blogs but following followers of similar blogs….tagging along
.-= magda´s last blog ..Same old @#&% ! =-.
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She had an impact on the kind of person you are without you even realizing it, I’m sure.
.-= blueviolet´s last blog ..Atkins Cuisine Blog Tour =-.
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@trinmom on twitter.
said:
Oh look it’s two of my fave people together in the same place.
HIII!!
Ok you’re making me feel like I need to learn a lesson here. I still kinda feel the same about my gran. She’s not the easiest person to be around, and she has a bit of a mean streak. But really… she’s not that bad. I just have a hard time being around her for extended time. She’s really mean to my mom, and I am a fiercely protective tiger woman. She admitted to me that she doesn’t know why, she just does things to see the reaction she’ll get. Anyway. She is NOT a bad person. But now that she’s older and getting more frail I know I should spend more time with her before it’s too late.
You’ve made me think a lot today. Not only about my grandma, but about how we will be remembered by our kids and their kids. But enough about me.
I’m glad your little Put Pie is celebrating that family connection through the generations.
.-= Mom of Three´s last blog ..Wee Drama =-.
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So nice of you to have me! Thank you.
.-= Unknown Mami´s last blog ..What Does Marriage Mean to You? =-.
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I’ve come across some mean family members. When I really think about, I may be one of them. Sometimes people are just they way they are. I try to tell myself when I come across difficult personalities to change my view and the relationship will work better. I love my family, and I know that I can be harsh and blunt. Their used to me now.
You shared a great story.
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