Cantaloupe

It is funny, the scents that trigger memories. For instance, the other day and again today, I was cutting up a cantaloupe, and it totally reminded me of my grandmothers. Summers at the my dad's parents, that is what the cantaloupe reminded me of first. I can see Nana standing in the kitchen, the fan on high to spread the coolness of the window unit throughout the dining room, kitchen, and den (as the rest of the house was shut off by doors). We're fixing to feast on the lunch she's magically pulled together. One last thing to do, cut the cantaloupe. The iced tea is on the table, and we take our seats. That was my first memory.

Then my mom's mother...She would take cantaloupe in a plastic container to breakfast at Tommy's. Before my grandfather died, everytime we visited my mother's parents, we went to Tommy's for breakfast at least once. I remember the last time we went. We sat in the back room, away from the other customers, at the very back table. I remember sitting on the end of the table, across from my dad. My grandfather (Pawpaw) played the song he always picked on the jukebox. And there was the container of cantaloupe. It is one of the last memories I have of my grandfather. After he died, Tommy's had his picture and the album of his song matted and framed and presented it to Mawmaw. That was my second memory.

All from a cantaloupe, all because I am eating more fruit these days. Memory is one of my favorite things. My grandmothers are two of my favorite things/people. So different, yet loved equally.