My grandmother was one of the most amazing people I have ever met. She was this tiny little woman who was tough as nails and yet full of compassion. She and I were kindred spirits, and when I was an infant she would take delight in waking me up from my naps so that we could play.
My grandmother did not cook or bake a lot except for occasionally in the summers. She would spend her entire summer in her cottage in northern Wisconsin. I believe she was only truly happy when she was up north in her huge cottage with her children and grandchildren around her. It was usually on these special occasions that she would make strawberry shortcake. Her strawberry shortcake was absolutely delicious. Even when she got more frail and began purchasing her shortcake, instead of making it from scratch, hers was still the best I had ever had. The thought of strawberry shortcake brings me back to those summers as a child: running around barefoot and always a little sunburnt, but extremely happy.
My grandmother passed away when I was fifteen and for the longest time even seeing “strawberry shortcake” on a restaurant menu would bring me close to tears. I longed for my grandmother and for those seemingly endless summer days. This past year as a special surprise my mother made my siblings and I strawberry shortcake. I happily ate it and with each bite thought of a special moment I had shared with my grandmother. The nostalgia that strawberry shortcake brings to me now is comforting and peaceful. Eating it is so much more than a dessert, It is a little reminder of my grandmother and how much she loved me.
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