The Difference Between Memes and Memories
My grandmother made amazing pickles. She refused to tell my wife how. But they were incredible. One day my wife was sent to fetch more pickles for the table from an unopened jar, but found she couldn’t open the pickle jar and had to ask me to help. She then wondered how on earth a 90-year-old woman could close a jar so tightly. At that point she saw that there were the remnants of a label that had been peeled off.
“She buying them in a store!” my wife shouted. “Quiet,” I warned, “does it really matter?”
It didn’t and it doesn’t. Family and cultural legends serve purposes and, if the purpose is just and the learning is valid, then trying to validate the facts and stories is futile.
I am wondering, however, where her egg salad came from, the best I’ve ever had and which I’ve never been able to buy or duplicate, despite buying a ton of schmaltz with which to experiment. Those were the days, my friend, I thought they’d never end….