As I was busy at work today, I found myself on the internet looking for a new recipe for Christmas (I had trouble focusing this afternoon). I came across a picture of a ham. It was one of those hams with pineapple rings and cherries. It immediately made me think of my Nana, which was weird because I never think about Nana. I was really young when she died, and to be honest there isn't much I remember about her. I remember what she looked like and I remember her house. I remember her garden (she had this huge garden, it was like a palace of flowers) and I remember the rope swing we used to play on. I remember the toys she kept in the hall closet for me and my brothers and sister (the little monster finger puppets were my favorite) and I remember her guest bedroom. On the dresser she had this mirror that laid flat that she kept bottles of perfume on. I always thought it was so pretty, elegant, sophisticated. It is funny the perspective a child has. Now that I think about it though, perhaps that is why I like perfume so much and why I've always wanted an old antique mirror tray for my perfume bottles, but I didn't realize it was because of Nana and the impression her display had on me as a child. (writing really is therapeutic! even for just the simplest "break-throughs").
I remember those things about Nana's house, but I don't remember very much about her. I have one memory that may have clouded all of the other ones. I have this thing in my head that Nana was mean. She was a mean old lady and that is probably why I never really think about her. I was at my grandparents one day and Nana was there. And I know this is when she was older, probably closer to the end because her hair was white and not red anymore. I walked into the house and went to give her a hug, and she stopped me and grabbed me by the shoulders and just looked at me. And then she said I was fat. She said I was turning into a fat little girl and then stood up and walked away. Now as an adult, I know she didn't mean to hurt my feelings or be mean. She was just saying it (I was a fat little girl!) probably out of concern or just an observation. But as a child, it really hurt my feelings. She died shortly after that. And that is how I think about her. She was mean.
Which is why it was odd when I thought about her when I saw the ham. I had to copy the picture and email it to my dad to see if Nana made hams like that. Sure enough she did.
I don't have a memory with Nana and a ham. At least not one I can remember. But seeing the picture of it made me miss her. Really miss her. I had to choke back tears as I sat and thought about her. Nana wasn't mean, she loved me. It took a picture of a ham to remind me of that...
-S
