Blog #3: A Nostalgic after Dinner Treat

     Hello everyone, I want to share an experience I had a few nights ago after having a nice dinner with my  family, so lets start from the beginning. My family and I have been going through a rough time in our lives as of late. I'll spare the details but lets just say that is has been very traumatic, depressing, and exhausting all around. So to take our minds off the problems of the present we all thought it would be a fun idea to cook a nice meal together. Nothing beats spending quality time with the ones you love. 

    Firstly, We all agreed upon making a homemade chicken alfredo with fresh ingredients, homemade pasta, homemade sauce, and last but not least a little bit of love. As I do not wish to bore you lets just say that the dinner came out to be a success with all of us feeling extremely proud of what we had come up with. Dinner was delicious and really helped to ease our pains and grievances but the cherry on top of it all was a surprise gift from my mother. My mother had asked us all to close our eyes and to open our mouths. One by one she placed something in my siblings mouths, each of them giving off a small cry and uneasy laugh. I was the last person to receive mine with each second of waiting being worse than the last.

    Furthermore, it was my turn and my mother gently placed my gift onto the bed of my tongue. It was a sensation I had not felt in quite some time, I know I had tastes this before. It had a texture of something hard like a small rock with un smoothed edges, or that of a concrete sidewalk. A swoosh of only what I could describe as a winter breeze taking your breath away. It was cold bitterness that felt like your tongue was in a fist fight with the air surrounding it. A wave of memories flashed elegantly through my mind, each better than the last hitting me with feelings of happiness and sadness. What I had been feeling could only be described as nostalgia as it flooded my mind with the feelings I had tried to hide away from myself. 

    Lastly, I had not been alone in this factor as our mutual feelings although not shown, could be felt and needed no explaining. My mother had surprised us with the last batch of treats my great grandmother had made before she passed away. Every night after dinner at her house she would give us a white circular disc about the size of quarter. What I had been given was not a treat but a way to remember my grandmother in not just my memory but with my sense of taste.

This has been a hot take with Blissful Ignorance.