Just now, I was pushing little stickpins of cloves into the ham for Easter dinner, and a very old memory came back. It’s funny how an aroma can trigger your brain and suddenly you are back in time – about 60 years this time.
Just a little Easter story:
When I was about six, my mother was preparing Easter dinner, and she was getting the ham ready to go into the oven, just like I am doing now.
She went into the pantry for the cloves and the jar was empty. She had forgotten to see if she had had any – which is easy to do with a product that lasts about 17 years.
We lived in a three-family house. My Grandma lived in a little apartment up on the third floor, and my Aunt Evelyn and her family lived on the first floor. We lived in the middle – just like the three bears I thought, because the middle is “just right.”
So my mother said to my sister Claudia:
“Run downstairs and ask Aunt Evelyn if she has any whole cloves.”
And Claudia took off, her thick ponytail bouncing down the stairs.
Three minutes later Claudia returned – with Aunt Evelyn.
“I just had to come up and see for myself,” said Evelyn. “Why you would be asking for such a weird thing on Easter Sunday.”
“What weird thing?” asked my mother.
“Tell your mother what you asked for, honey,” said Aunt Evelyn to Claudia.
“Do you have any old clothes?”