So many times I wish I knew now what I didn’t know then about the limited time I’d have with my parents, so many things I wish I had asked, said and learned from them while they were both still here. Kristin of Two Cannoli is my guest today with a thoughtful letter to her grandmother, in which she explores this exact same thing.
Kristin has been an amazing supporter of Letters For Lucas and I am honored to have her here and if you don’t know her yet, don’t miss her touching post recently featured on The Huffington Post, The Things I Love About Bedtime.
Dear Nonna,
I made marinara sauce tonight; Giada’s recipe. I know, I know; it’s not like yours at all. I remember the tender beef that would shred with the slightest touch of a fork, or the richly-flavored potato you added to the sauce early in the day – the one I always claimed at dinner. I remember watching you form meatballs with your strong, capable hands, even into your 80s.
The problem is that while I enjoyed your cooking very much, I didn’t pay attention to how you did it.
The family cookbook doesn’t help, because it gives instructions like “pour some good oil in a pan” and add “a roast” and then “add two boxes of Pomi tomatoes and season.”
What’s “good oil” and how much do I need?
How big is the roast?
How long do I let it simmer?
I found the Pomi boxes; now how do I season the sauce?
I wish I had appreciated the cooking process and not just the eating process. I wish I had asked you to show me how you made your meatballs, and your perfect marinara, and the strufoli. Or the cannoli.
Or even the milk-marinated veal parmigiana I used to love until I revolted as a teenager and refused to eat veal. I wish I could take back my words and hide the veal in a napkin instead of causing that look of hurt on your softly-lined face.
Now that I’m married and have a child of my own, Grandma, there are so many things I want to ask you.
Did I tell you I love you enough? Did you know how much I enjoyed visiting you? Did you understand when I sassed you? I also want to know more about your childhood, and how it felt when your mother passed away and what your two stepmothers were like. I want to know what it was like to have my mother, and what it was like to be a woman in the 30s and 40s. I want to know how you fell in love with my grandfather. I want to know more about your passions, and your hobbies, and your dreams.
You died before I knew the questions I wanted to ask.
A couple of weeks before you passed away – in your sleep, peacefully – you handed me your wedding ring. When I wear it, I feel you near me.
Your great-grandchildren know who you are, because we have photos of you all around and we have told stories about you. We talk about your generosity, and your sense of humor.
We joke about the nicknames we chose for you and about the way you fell asleep in front of The Wheel of Fortune every night. “I’m not sleeping; I’m just resting my eyes” became our punch line when we wanted to tease you.
There’s so much to discover, Nonna. I wish you were here not only to teach me about the sauce, but to teach me more about life.
I miss you, and always will.
Love,
Kristin
Nonna and Kristin’s first niece – 1999
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Oh how your words made me ache for my own grandmother who I miss so much. The picture of your grandmother with your niece reminds me of how much I wish my youngest two children would have been able to know her. At least my oldest was blessed to have her for 8 years.
The recipe made me smile though because I have one that says, “grab the big blue pot.” Unfortunately, my cookware is black 🙂
Such a gorgeous letter, Kristin.
I miss my grandmother too. I also wish I asked her all the same questions you want to as yours. How I wish that we knew better then.
Oh! Nonna is GORGEOUS! I have the same thoughts about my Gram. I come up with questions now that I wish I knew to ask all those years ago.
Oh I miss my grandmother. I remember watching her cook just like this. I’m so happy that there are a couple of things she taught me how to do (chicken and dumplings, and cornbread dressing), but there were so many more that I wish I knew. And her recipes are of the exact same variety.
This is just beautiful. What a loving tribute to your grandmother and an important reminder to the rest of us to really soak up the experiences with our family members.
To ask questions. To listen. To love while we still can.
My grandmother turns 90 this August.
I think I’ll go call her right now.
(And I don’t say this to be insensitive to those who’ve lost their loved ones. I say it to thank you. Really.)
Oh my goodness, so very lovely.
I wish I had Nonna’s recipes too! They sound SO good.
And I wish I had asked my Grandmother’s so many of these things too. I love when my kids talk to theirs and ask them questions about the “old days”…
And my Dad says the same thing about resting his eyes. 😉
My grandma is not a cooking person – but I did get the chance to ask her a lot of those life questions, and I’m so glad I did. It is a blessing to have grandparents be a special part of our lives.
I wish I could have tried your grandmother’s cooking. It sounds amazing.
What a touching post. Makes me really stop and pay more attention to things.
I love every last bit of this — from its heart to its substance!
(Also love seeing the two of you HeartSwooners together today!)
Oh man, this is lovely. Gorgeous words, a true sentiment, and stuff I wish I could tell my Nana…
Love this and of course it makes my heart ache for my grandmas. While I didn’t cook with her I copied many of her recipes and have kept many letters and birthday cards from both of them.
Ryan and I are lucky; we each have a grandma left, but this is a reminder to talk to them about their lives and not just our own 🙂 I miss my other grandma so much. She was so feisty, and I just know she had many untold stories.
Oh beautiful – and sad. But somehow I think even questions in retrospect count, as if the love is not bound by time.
The older I get the more questions I have that I can never ask. It sounds so obvious, but discovering that parents and grandparents have lives outside of those roles is huge!
This made my heart ache too. I wish I had known my grandmothers better as people, but they’ve been gone a while now. Love that you have this love for her.
January 9, 2009 at 12:13 pm