I still remember the beautiful times. Me and my grandma, in our favourite place in the kitchen cooking for the entire family.
It was a divine moment, and our family called us the Strong Seasoners.
I remember when I stood on the stool, and my grandma would call out to me: "Garlic Powder please, paprika, chili powder, salt...
" I would pass them to her, and she would slowly sprinkle a bit on the meat, and mix it round and round, incorporating the flavour and spices into it.
Then she would place it on the stand, and quietly and sensually roast the meat. When it was ready, she would place it on a plate and give it to me, watching while I ate.
The flavours would explode in my mouth, going through all my taste buds, and then slide down my throat. She would smile at me sweetly and tell me to eat it all up.
I still remember those times, and will always will. I refuse to remember when they brought the news she had died of old age. I absolutely refuse to remember the crushing pain I felt then.
The way that pain was going to engulf me in it. I won't remember...