One of my earliest food memories is of drinking carrot juice. Yes, carrot juice. My amazing Irish grandmother was an intriguing and very strong-willed person, she would weekly swim in the cold Atlantic ocean and had some really interesting views on life, religion and food (these were strange to me as a young child but maybe not that strange to me as an adult). I remember visiting her in her Victorian house in the Gardens, Cape Town and been offered carrot juice to drink. It was a case of having to drink the juice and not having the choice of not drinking it. I think my brother enjoyed the bright yellow liquid more than I did and tried to help me finish my quota of the liquid. My grandmother passed away in 1988 and how I wish I could now enjoy a glass of carrot juice with her (I sure I would enjoy it more now than I did as a young child).
My grandmother actually scared me almost to the point of running and hiding when she came to visit. However all was forgiven because she would always bring me a KitKat as a present. The crispy wafers and chocolate outside was enough to bring me out of my hiding place.
I am sure if we all sit and reflect, memories of the past will flow back into our minds. Some good and some bad memories but all our memories combined are what makes us who we are today.
If I start focusing too much on the recent past I start getting sad but the pain is easing and healing is taking place. I am finding my identity of who I am and what I stand for.
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