My dear Gran died yesterday. She and my Grandfather, Lalla, were involved in a car accident at the beginning of the week. My Gran sustained serious head injuries and Lalla escaped with a few scratches and bruises. Sadly Gran never woke from her coma and passed away peacefully in the early hours of Saturday morning, 2 February 2013.
I have conflicting emotions; on one hand I am thankful for and rejoice in her long and full life. I am thankful that I kept up the contact via snail mail with her and Lalla when we moved to Australia. I have not regrets, not one. And on the other hand I am so very sad to no longer have a person who has been a part of my life from the day I was born.
When I received the news I was a little numb, but then the tears started to flow and I took a few moments to really mourn her. In the hours after the initial text, I was trying to keep busy with work related errands, I was sitting at the traffic lights and was overcome with emotion all over again. I just had this urge to speak of her, to share memories of her, almost talk to her. So there I was, crying my eyes out, talking to myself as I waited for the lights to change. After that I decided to make a cake in her honour. It's the first time I have baked where the reason behind it was death. Funnily enough my baking came through for me. The process of measuring and mixing ingredients and pouring my emotions into that cake was really therapeutic. I just knew it would work even though I had never tried the recipe before.
If I were to talk to my Gran one last time, this is what I would say, and these were my words in the car at the traffic lights:
My Gran, what an incredible woman, you are strong, stubborn and feisty. There were times as a child when I feared you and we did not get along very well. But thankfully that changed as I grew older and tougher. My Gran you have raised three successful children and you have been a fully involved, hands on, supportive grandmother to nine grandchildren and one great grandchild. There is not one memory of school sporting events that does not have you standing on the sidelines screaming "GOOOOO JOANNAAAAAAA!!!" From when I was a little girl, at my very first sports day to the last hockey game I played for the D team, you were there. You came to every cultural event I was involved and and have encouraged me in your own way.
Your gardening skills and endless knowledge of flowers is something you have passed on to me and I am proud to share that talent with you. You taught me the importance of cleaning a wound well, not matter how much pain the process may inflict on the victim and to keep the wound well looked after in order for it to heal as best as it could. You were a great fan of methaolate! You taught me to be tough, and not to take any 'bullshit' form anyone. You were the first person I ever heard swear and the words I learned from you were on another level! It never ceased to amaze me that no one told you off!
I will never be able to eat a paw paw without thinking of you, for some reason those little black seeds will always remind me of you. The same goes for apple pies, I remember how you used to bring up an apple pie from a bakery in Pinetown- I can't remember the name but I remember the red and white box it came in with the picture of a little old lady on the front. You were and always will be the champion sandwich maker. I remember many family events with home made sandwiches and thermoses of tea. I also recall you being prepared for EVERYTHING, the back of your car or the insides of your handbag held a menagerie of items that could be used in any emergency. I remember you telling my that sanitary pads are very good for stemming the flow of blood from a bad wound. That's right, ever practical! You taught me that the sap from an aloe plant can help with itchy bites and you amazed me when you ate nasturtium flowers!
I will always remember to check the inside of the jacaranda flower for bees before slipping them onto the end of my fingers to make witches nails. Your cotton collared shirts, long grey plait or curled up bun will be imprinted on my memory for ever. I promise to keep the tradition of salmon mousse at Christmas with melba toast alive now that I FINALLY have the recipe from you! I promise I will keep writing to Lalla, I know how much my letters meant to you, but in truth I think I got way more out of writing them than you got reading them. Knowing that my dear grandparents knew what was going on in my life was important to me.
I'll never forget your cackle-like laugh, the crinkles round your blue eyes and your smell. I think I inherited my tendency for hoarding from you. So far Troy had been a bit more successful with keeping the levels of useful crap low than Lalla was. I will forever be grateful for the fact that you were at our wedding, and that you had such a good time. A beautiful flower arrangement will always remind me of you and a jungle-like garden with lots of big trees and bushes will bring memories flooding back of the green oasis that is your garden.
I love you my Granny. I'll never forget you and will miss you.
I decided on this recipe because it had pecan nuts in it. My Gran was an amazing gardener. She had a huge garden, it was like a park and in it was a pecan nut tree. I remember collecting those nuts as a little girl, it was like hunting for treasure. I can vividly recall the shell of the nut and I remember a bowl of those nuts with the nut cracker waiting next to it should the desire to munch on a pecan nut come upon you.
I couldn't be there next to her bed to say goodbye, and I won't make the celebration of her life that the family has as it is in South Africa and I am in Perth, so decided to have my own goodbye ceremony, on my own, in my kitchen. I had a cup of tea and a slice of cake, all the while remembering my Granny and knowing she would have loved it. I even had two grains of sugar in my tea, just the way she had it.
Maple Syrup and Pecan Chiffon Cake with Brown Butter Icing
(p.s I can't seem to get these photos into the places I want them to be so they are the way they are)
