Saturday, Sept. 8, 2012

Not sure about others, but I’m big on honoring those who are worthy.  Sometimes I do so in a big way, such as when I run an entire marathon for one individual, dedicating the title I take to that individual.  Other times, the way I honor is simple, to others seeming insignificant or as if I’m simply going about my daily business. 

Tonight I opted to honor my grandmother.  A few blogs back, I wrote how it was her, my grandfather and father who instilled in me an insatiable thirst for the beach and ocean, my needing to be close to them as much as possible.  At times, I wonder if that’s just a yearning or if I’m somehow genetically predisposed to be fulfilled by the beach and ocean.  But I stray from my main thought—honoring my grandmother.

She was one of the significant contributors to my desire to be in close proximity to the beach, so much so that as soon as I had the chance, I uprooted and plunked myself down 110 miles away in a cozy little beach house.  Not only did my grandmother infuse the fibers of my being with a beach thirst, but also she significantly made it possible for me to purchase the house I now call home. 

So today, I jotted down a grocery list and went to do my shopping.  Returning home, I lovingly took out a recipe card, covered with so many stains from frequent use that some of the ingredients were almost illegible.  Opening cans, chopping vegetables and browning meat, I took solace in cooking one of my favorite dishes that my grandmother used to make.  I added ingredients and stirred the contents of the pot, a content smile spreading cross my face, as I thought: my grandmother would’ve been pleased with the house choice I made and honored that the first home-coked meal I made here was this particular recipe—a simple yet hearty and delicate dish that comforts one from deep within and wraps them in a fulfilling embrace.