Day seventeen – Your favourite memory.

I’ve been thinking about this one all day. There are so many memories to choose from. I’ve been alive for exactly 6 471 days, and man, a lot has happened since then. I’ve grown up and stuff, slept one third of my life and on top of that I’ve been going to school for what feels like a 1000 years. But I chose my memory, so let’s see if I can write about it without tearing you up.

When I was little I had a great-grand-mother. She was my mother’s grandmother on her mother’s side. She lived in a little house. I don’t remember much, but I remember that we always got the same drink. Rivella. I don’t know why she stocked bottles of it, I don’t know why she always gave it to us, the only thing I know is that I kinds didn’t like it. But I drank it anyways, because, you know, the lady was in her 90’s! It became a tradition; when we were visiting grandma De Jong, we would get Rivella. She passed away when I was about 8 or 9, but the only thing I remember from that funeral is my mom crying. I’d never seen my mom cry, so that image always stuck with me. It is the only funeral I’ve ever been to.

Anyways, now, every time I see Rivella, smell Rivella or even drink Rivella I think of my grandma De Jong. It’s like my taste buds have brains, because I get always transferred back to when I was young. And it’s like I am back in the little living room (and later the retirement home) being all adorable and showing my ugly drawings to my mom’s grandma.