What Do Memories Taste Like?

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

They were just as I remembered them. Sweet, succulent, with a touch of memories. Those unforgettable childhood memories. My grandma’s delicious prunes.

It is sad how we tend to overlook what we are given, what we are living just because we get so used to it and don’t see the true value of them. We tend to take simple things for granted, and only looking back we realize they were so precious and irreplaceable.

I grew up in Romania, and I have a deep connection with the nature and everything it represents. I used to spend my holidays outside, playing and having fun, running around and exploring everything I could explore; there were no video games, the internet was pretty much just starting to be a thing, and we just had to find ways to distract ourselves. The good old days…

Every day was a happy day, at least at my grandma’s place. Not because she was problems-free…no, whose life is it? But because that’s how I was seeing it-a fairytale land where there were no rules and time was flowing, where the days didn’t matter because time was not registered in any watch. It was my definition of leisure and perfection.

I saw the prunes in my local fruit store and it hit me…I remembered their texture, their color, but I was just thinking…will they taste exactly the same? It can’t be.

As soon I ate the first one my brain jumped right into those summer days, where I would lay on the refreshing green grass, look at the bright blue sky and eat prunes right from the tree on the top of a hill, overlooking the houses below. That was happiness and I couldn’t even realize.

Thank God we are able to have and keep memories.

Everything has the same value until it is taken away from you, or you go far away from it and can’t have it anymore. Sure, you can enjoy it in the moment, but maybe not fully realize their significance. Later on, when you think back in time, you realize the small things are the ones who matter the most.

It made me think of her, of my tiny grandma, with the strength and resilience of a mountain. Tough, strong, kind and gentle at the same time. I thought of her, the women I look up to and always will, one of my best role models. She is so beautiful, I can see it in every wrinkle on her face, in her tired but sparky and alive eyes…The things she must’ve seen, the things she must’ve lived…

A walking monument of the amount of strength that rests in woman.

You get to see parts of your life everywhere, isn’t it so? In places far away from home, in a forest walk, in a sunrise on the beach, remembering that one-time when you stayed up with your friends all night on the cold sand just to watch the sun rise, in listening a song or watching the ocean waves crashing.

You get to see parts of yourself everywhere.

It takes enormous courage and power to navigate through life, to face all the problems and bad moments and still be able to stand up on your feet everyday.

It is something us young people don’t realize yet, how lucky some of us are to have encountered less of the painful memories and less grief as our elders. That’s why we own them so much respect and admiration, and even more so if they are your roots.

Cherish what you can, while you can. You never know when it will all go away. But oh, we almost always forget that. That’s what memories are for.

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