Asking for a friend.

Raspberries make me think of my grandparents. My Gramp used to have a blueberry and a raspberry bush at his condo on Pine Bluffs. Before we moved into it, we would go and visit, and he’d take me out to the side of the house where the bushes were, and we’d fill up a basket of berries and bring them back to my Nan. She would eventually make homemade jam with it, and it was my favorite jam. They’d bring it to Florida too, and for breakfast my Nan would make me an English muffin with homemade jam, and the delicious sweetness of the jam mixed with the texture of Thomas’ English Muffins, made for the best morning delight. 

The smell of them alone brings back those memories as if they were yesterday…but how do you explain that to someone who has never experienced that loss before? Asking for a friend.