there i was. driving to work at about 6:45am. slurping back my bold, black coffee and boom! kaiser permanente got me. sneaky devils.
they had some radio ad about smell being the sense most closely tied to memory and how we all have memories of smells and most of the time they are food-related. they were encouraging listeners to make those recipes that have memories behind them.
i could instantly smell it. my nana's homemade lasagna. no one made it like her. no one. and the day she gave me the famed buttercup yellow dish she served it in was the day i became a woman. ok, that is really taking it far, but there is a little truth to that. the moment she handed it to me, all i could think was..."i'm going to be married someday and i will make my family lasagna in this dish and they'll love it and i'll wear a cute apron!" honestly...that was my thought process.
"Nana! How many times do you think you made lasagna in this?" "Oh, hunnie! Too many times to count."
Enter tear fest. We're talking waterfalls, people...waterfalls. the kind of cry that makes you not care that the guy in the car next to you is wondering what in the world is wrong with you. (advice: always look straight ahead at the road--never make eye contact). i was weeping. my nana passed away not too long ago and everything is still fresh. i miss her. i miss the way when i would kiss her goodbye after visiting, her face always smelled like light, delicate baby powder. i miss her gracious personality that so lovingly entertained my weirdness. like the time i "made" her an apron out of a table cloth and staples and she modeled it for me while i took pictures of her to show everyone my wonderful creation (yeah, she was that grandma). i loved how she wore lipstick till her dying day. i miss the way she answered the phone with such joy and surprise when i would call her just to say hi. i don't have enough time or room on this blog to tell all the ways i miss her. so, there i was...just me and the 405 freeway...flooding.
so, congratulations kaiser. you found me at my weakest, most vulnerable state and tugged so hard at my heartstrings that my eyes felt the release. i didn't even care. go ahead and judge me for crying by myself, on my way to work, mascara streaming down my face from a 30-second commercial. so! i wonder if anyone else has cried at that advertisement. probably not. i have never really understood people who cry at TV commercials or any of that nonsense. now i do. if you hear that ad on the radio and start crying uncontrollably...you can't say you haven't been warned.
now, i'm going to make that lasagna, but i'm going to wait. i'm going to wait until bee and i are married. (ps that's in less than five months--insert freak out here). i'm going to plan a special night and make him that lasagna in my nana's dish. then i'll be a woman. a real, homemade lasagna-making, married woman.