Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Oh, how food can be so nostalgic. It takes you to the time and place where your heart is. Is it that romantic or is it just me?
I was born the youngest of seven children and we had a dearest nanny we considered as our second mother. I mean, seriously. I remember everytime she had to go mudik, my sister and me, as the last youngsters under her caretaking- yes, she took care all seven of us since we were newborn babies- my sister and me would cry unstoppably, scream, kick, temper tantrum all the way, didn't wanna let her go, couldn't handle her going away. I still remember the feeling. It was like half of your soul was forcefully taken away from you, hurt and dying. She was wonderful to us. She loved us dearly and genuinely just like her own children, no fakeness, no politics. Unconditionally, just like my Mom did. And she remained our closest "family" until the day she died at a very old age, possibly more than a hundred.