Like when you are a little kid and you have just arrived at your grandparents house and its dark (we were always taking night flights) and you're exhausted and grandma wants to know what she always wants to know, if you are hungry. and you say yes & she tells you she will make anything you want and you ask for the thing that reminds you of her, that she is famous for. so she makes you chipped beef on toast and you watch her and can almost taste the absurd saltiness of it in the air. and you can smell her cigarettes, you are sure she was just smoking as usual. and the smell is of comfort and safety. and you guys eat and you talk, all kinds of small talk and she makes you giggle like she always makes you giggle, and you know that you will go to bed and wake up to total chaos and cousins and an alcoholic grandpa and just the insanity of extended family. But for that 20 minutes it is just you and her and it is calm and there is a breeze running its fingers through the palm trees that you see through the plantation shutters. And you don't know it then, but you will remember that moment for the rest of your life. And years later when have a hard time remembering what she was like before the dementia anymore, this is one of the handful of memories you keep close, to remind you.

and then 15 years later you will be at her funeral heart sick and broken, and in someone's speech they mention chipped beef on toast. and you give a small smile as you realize, everyone has a grandma chipped beef and toast memory. it makes them think of her, like it makes you think of her. its silly and comforting and you know you are all sharing that small smile.

and then you find yourself months afterwards telling stories about her. and you don't know why your talking about her to someone you just met, but you are and you find that you don't want to stop. and you can't figure out why you can't bring yourself to mention that she's passed away. like if i you didn't say it maybe it wouldn't be real. at least to that one person, she is still alive, even if they have no idea who she is.

and days later you are still upset and missing her. and you go home to your parents house, and your mom says she's missing her too. and she makes a dinner for her and your dad, chicken and vegetables. and your mom she says she has a special dinner for you, and she makes you chipped beef on toast, she is her moms daughter after all and tells you how to make it. and while of course its still not the same, you can remember her in this physical and tactical way. every time you feel the memory of her quick wit and infinite kindness softening, you can tether yourself to it in a real way.

and i guess i'm just saying. you wouldn't expect such a small moment to stick with you your whole life, but it does. its those beautiful small moments that i need to appreciate more.