Story by Keyana Robinson, Summer 2020
There was so much that came to mind when thinking of plants that resonate with me. Most of my memories revolve around grass and trees and hugs from the sun. Outside, a love of mine was my majestic home as a child. The grass was my bed, the backyard breeze, my fan, and the sun and moon were my light.
Nature is where my most beautiful memories reside. My grandmother built my relationship with plants. She was raised in St. Louis Missouri, where it was hot and family was close. She moved farther north when she was a teen when she married my grandfather and carried her love for food that her mother, my great-grandmother gave her. I’d go to her house, to her job, a crisis nursery , where she’d show me tomatoes and cucumbers and I’d wonder what she would make. As a picky eater, I didn’t love eating everything, but I did love her fried green tomatoes. No one makes them like my grandmother.
Both of us love the color green; I get that from her. The love of life and the love of flavor... Days when she would make fried green tomatoes were always memorable. We would eat and talk, and I’d always remember green and smiles surrounded by love. Somehow the day would get better, with tiny slices of flavored green.
My grandmother continues to cook. She makes recipes that her mother made, my mother makes, and that I will make one day… of course with my own touch. Tomatoes are our love; fried green tomatoes, filled with stories, love, memories, and hope. Granny continues to feed me these slices of green, that remind her of money, full bellies, and joy, and that remind me of her.