Grandma Jenny's cherry pie

Somewhere along the line my Grandma Jenny got the idea that I loved cherry pie. It started when I was about 7 or 8 years old. Of course, I was one of those kids who ate everything and anything that wasn’t nailed down and never weighed more than a pair of sneakers. So, every year that I could remember Grandma baked me a cherry pie for Christmas. I was always expected to eat it in front of her attacking it mercilessly and completely. I typically polished it off in one day with Grandma watching each bite. At about 5’2” and almost that round, with silver hair and sparkling blue eyes, Grandma was that stereotypical Italian momma who made everything from scratch and was the quiet matriarch of our small, dysfunctional family.Well, this went on for years much to my puzzlement but also my enjoyment, for as it turned out, I wasn’t really that crazy about the traditional cherry pie but grandma’s was different. Maybe it was how she looked at me as I ate it. I always made her believe it was the very best present I got each and every Christmas. Somehow, I woke up one morning 16 going on 17 yrs. old. I developed a case of allergies to strawberries and cherry pie. If I so much as took a bite my face would look like somebody hit me with a can of cranberry sauce. Exactly what a healthy high school boy needs, right? So, sometime around January or February of my 17th year I began dropping hints to Grandma that I was now allergic to cherry pie and that we needed to move in another direction. Even with her broken English, I knew she heard me. I lobbied my mom to make sure she reminded Grandma …”no cherry pie this year, please”. The closer we got to Christmas the louder and more frequent came my reminders, until I was totally satisfied that everyone… from my Grandma Jenny to my Mom, my Dad, Grandpa Jack…and most of our neighbors knew that I was officially allergic to cherry pie and would prefer a traditional present. I expected a fountain pen or something like that.
Well, Christmas morning comes and sure enough as we bound down the stairs to open our gifts, there sitting in a circle around the tree is our nuclear family. Grandma stationed in her kitchen chair, since all grandma’s hate those soft living room chairs, right? They need a firm chair. At least my grandmas’ always did. Tearing through the presents I look curiously for the present from Grandma Jenny, wondering what will it be? All the gifts open there was, alas nothing from her or Grandpa. Wow, I hope she didn’t get mad at me for letting her know I didn’t want cherry pie. Just then, Grandma reaches down and hands me a box. My heart crushed as she handed me another cherry pie. My high school hormones began racing wondering…oh, no…what do I do. Nancy Davis will not be happy with her boyfriend looking like a can of cranberry sauce landed on his face. The kids at school will be merciless. Looking over at Grandma, her bright blue eyes shining and dancing as her mouth curled into that quiet smile as if she were presenting the grand prize to the winner of the contest showing how much she loved me. Looking at the pie, thinking of my friends at school and the total embarassment I would endure if I took even one bite, I smiled, picked up a fork and gobbled all the cherry pie I could eat. The hell with being embarrassed. When you have someone like Grandma Jenny in your life…and you know she’s doing something cause she loves you….even a teen aged boy has to get his priorities straight…For the next week I looked like my face got stabbed with a jelly pitch fork. But grandma smiled through every bite….and now she’s gone…and my memory of her is of her shining eyes, her smiling face…and the love she gave me as she watched me eat her cherry pie. I’m still allergic…and damn, I wish I could have just one more of her cherry pies. …. Don’t you wish you could bring back all those people in your life who gave you such wonderful memories? They left us their memories. Those are the nicest gifts I get every year. This year I lost some people who were really important to me. Christmas will be different without them. The rest of my life will be different without them. But I have a fresh box of memories that I will call on to gift wrap my holiday spirit. Remember the past as you salute the future. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all… and to all a very good night.