Monday, August 11, 2008

I don't know what happened to this post. I had 2 copies, then I deleted one & lost all my comments. For the people who made a comment before the delete, know that I read it & appreciated it. But I'll post this again, just so it is here.

When I was little, my Grandma Kay shopped at a store called Reams. The building that housed this grocery store had been a roller-skating rink in one of its past lives. It was a dome, with a lip that streamed up and down like a wave all around the outside of the building. At the parts where the wave went up, you had an entrance. I always, always wished I could ride on my roller skates up and down that wave. It just looked like too much fun. Of course, like most childhood fantasies, I was never able to do this. Plus, this was before we wore knee pads and helmets with our skates.

Anyhow. The first thing I remember smelling when entering Reams was the ice-cream counter. It was right up front; you could hardly walk in the store without running right into it. The smells all seemed to intermingle: chocolate and sherbet and waffle cones and vanilla all rolled into one. I couldn’t walk by without begging for a cone; I still can remember holding my ice cream, the chocolate sweetness streaming as my tongue tried to staunch its flow. Everything was right with the world when I was with my grandma it was hot and I was eating cold ice cream, my small chocolate spotted hand enveloped in her belovedly bony and liver spotted one.

I hadn’t thought about the Reams’ ice-cream counter in years, or even realized I had this memory until today when my coworkers and I took a trip down to the ice cream counter in our nearby mall.

My selection for today was rocky road. The flavor of almonds softened by chocolate ice cream and the smell of ice-cream-counter ice cream took me back to this memory so powerfully I almost looked around to find my Grandma. It made me miss her so much. I savored my rocky road a little more than I might have otherwise. My throat tightened a little thinking about her, and how long its been since I felt those hands and heard her kind voice.

I still miss her. I love you, Grandma.


Ginger said...

What? You deleted my comment? J/K. Have you ever seen those blogs where they have to approve the comment before it will post? Well sometimes I comment and they never post my comment and I get mad. Funny.