Consider the pot stirred.

We are all adults here, but I tapped in to my inner child this weekend and rented and watched INSIDE OUT and cried like a little girl.  You should rent it and watch it, with nobody else around, or at least with people that you trust with all your inner most thoughts – you know the ones that won’t judge you for crying while watching cartoons.

Of course I started to think about my core memories during and now after watching it, and maybe it’s because I finished watching it while enjoying a bowl of homemade vegetable soup just like my Grandma Helen used to make,  curled up on my couch, covered in blankets , eating off a TV tray that reminded me of core happy moments.

To visit my Grandma and Grandpa’s house back in the 70’s you would first have to drive down a river road in Hastings MN, along side the great Mississippi river to the end of the road that housed the lock and damn #2 .  At the end of the road you were greeted by a gate that you were only allowed to pass through if you were lock and damn master, the assistant or family.  Beyond those gates stood two government brick houses located directly across from each other.   My Grandpa being lock and damn master lived in one, his assistant in the other.

My Grandmother loved to decorate and their house was clothed in Red and Black, very Gone with the wind/ or  Carol Burnett clothed in thick drapes, depending on how you looked at it.

The living room was dark and cozy and whenever I would visit my Grandma while Grandpa was at work she would make soup and sandwiches and she would arrange my lunch on the divided plastic plates that were hugely popular back then.    We would place our lunch and our milk on a TV tray and watch Guiding Light.    I hated guiding light, but I loved the feeling of being safe and cozy and warm and the feel of the hot soup hitting my throat as it made it’s way down to my stomach.

Lunch would be followed by a piece of her homemade cherry pie with ice cream on the side, my favorite pie of hers and one she would always bring me until I was in my twenties whenever she came to visit.   The pie was mine, she would make that very clear as she walked in and handed it to me.  ” Here is your favorite Kristin, cherry pie, I baked it just for you.”   I remember how incredibly special I felt knowing the entire time she was baking it she was doing it for the sole purpose of making me happy…and it did, and the thought of it still does.

Me and Grandma Helen

Later in the day we would walk the pike by the river and go hunting for the perfect pieces of driftwood that we would carry back to her place and set in front of the house.

I loved how warm her house always felt , and the stirring of the scents that settled in your memory when you walked in the door , vegetables and meat simmering in a pot, while cinnamon , nutmeg, butter and cherry’s warmed in the oven.

I am making soup this weekend, her vegetable soup with dumplings, Homemade chicken soup with thick egg noodles, Pumpkin bars with cream cheese frosting.   The heat is turned up to 70, I can see the frost on the roof of the building out my window,  I feel comforted and safe in her memory.

While I am typing this I glance over my living room just as I find a picture of all of us Grand kids gathered around her dining room table when we were little .   Pay close attention to the dining room chairs.   The picture below this one is the living room furniture I picked out eight years ago.

Grandma Helen's dining roomliving room

**** I think I just realized why , the instant I laid eyes on it -I fell in love with it, it felt like home.*****

I wish she was here to share a bowl of soup with me.

I think I just felt her hug me, with her apron on, standing in the kitchen.

me and grandma helen 2


From the INSIDE – now OUT.


*Have you watched the movie, what memories did it stir up for you?*


7 thoughts on “Consider the pot stirred.

  1. My husband & I went to see the movie when it first came out. (We don’t have kids, but we still watch kids’ movies, especially Disney/Pixar ones.) For me, core memories are less about places and more about people. So many of my sadness-tinged happy core memories are of my Grandma, who lived with my family for 30 years and was in most ways a better parent than my parents were. Most of my happy childhood memories involve her: telling us stories, cooking delicious food, being patient, generous, lively, and loving. They’ve become tinged with sadness since she passed away 8 years ago. I still miss her. As with your grandmother, mine always made me feel very safe and special.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing your story, I’m glad you had your Grandmother to make you feel all the things we are supposed to feel , safe and special. I’m a Grandma of two now and I often wonder what I will be remembered for- and I pray it’s the same things our Grandma’s made us feel.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Your memories of your grandmother fill me with warmth, too! Good things like that need to be shared. But, when I watched “Inside Out” in the theater, I cried tears of sadness and mourning. My core memories of childhood and growing up are not happy, warm ones. I cried for the pain of the little girl who once was me – lost, alone, afraid. It wasn’t until I began therapy as an adult that I was able to come to terms with those core memories, to acknowledge and accept the pain, to let go of it, and to forgive the people who caused that pain. I carried those core memories around for decades, but they don’t define who I am now. When I was carrying them, my heart was shriveled, hard, and bitter, but now, I find that they deepen my well of empathy and compassion. So, when I was watching “Inside Out,” that’s what I felt, I suppose. I cried tears of empathy and compassion for that girl and for the tortured adult she became, tears of forgiveness and love for myself and the others in those memories.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lulu, I am sorry for the past that you have had, I am thankful you were and are able to work through your core memories and not let them define who you are. It saddens me that you had to live like that for so long. Thank you for sharing your story .

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you for allowing me to share it. It’s interesting, because my mother describes me as a “happy kid,” but that was not my impression of my childhood. I’m fortunate, because I am moving toward something more meaningful, beautiful, and wholehearted. It just took a little while to get to this point, and the journey is ongoing 🙂

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