Childhood in a Cup

My Grandma Wendy passed away over ten years ago. I had only been five years old at the time, my mind too young to comprehend the permanence or finality of death. When my parents sat me down to tell me that my grandma wasn't coming to visit ever again all I could feel was confusion. I didn't know how I was supposed to respond. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel or think or do. Now, after all of these years, I understand that my grandma is somewhere within the golden gates of Heaven and won't be around any time soon. I have faith that one day I might see her again and I can just imagine the joy that will be felt on that day, however far away it may seem at this moment. Now, I understand that all I can do is treasure the memories I shared with her. One of my favorite memories is of her making the most amazing, nostalgic drink in the entire world. After all, nothing can beat an ice cold glass of chocolate milk.

My Grandma Wendy would make it herself. It was nothing too complicated. She would take a glass of milk and add in a couple of squirts of Hershey's chocolate syrup and then she'd stir it up with a silver spoon until it was properly mixed and the flavor equally distributed throughout the drink. That is how I've prepared it ever since. In fact, the first time I had actual chocolate milk straight out of the jug was actually years later at a friend's house. But it just wasn't the same as white milk and chocolate syrup. It was alright, but not the same. Homemade chocolate milk is absolutely amazing and nothing can compare. One small sip brings me back to another time when I was a small thing, sitting in the kitchen of my childhood home. One small sip and I can see my grandma's kind smile and hear her soft but sure voice whispering to me that everything will be okay no matter what happens. One small sip and my heart is stilled.

I joined the navy a few months ago. Throughout my eighteen years of existence I would have never imagined I would end up marching through Recruit Training Command clad in green camo, singing along to the repetitive cadences, golden letters forming the word "RECRUIT" on my navy blue ball cap. It was an experience like no other. I still am not quite sure how I got there. It wasn't my mental or physical strength that got me through boot camp like one might think, but rather it was the chocolate milk and peanut butter and jelly from the galley that got me through the bizarre, challenging experience. That's the wonderful thing about drinks and snacks from our childhood; the nostalgia and good feelings they bring are strong enough to calm even the most powerful storms. I have been through several unfortunate events all at once in the past couple of months since joining the military and a small glass of chocolate milk helps to calm the pounding of my heart and to slow the horrid thoughts racing through my mind at the speed of light.

The world can be an awful place, not just scary or worrying, but truly frightening. Realizing how fragile our own innocence and spirit is can be heart breaking. Watching your world crumble around you is enough to bring you to your knees. It's a horrific experience I wouldn't wish on anyone. It's not medication or alcohol or dissociation that gets you through it, but the peace and happiness that comes from the little events and experiences that bring you back to your childhood when everything was just a little bit simpler, just a little bit happier, like a glass of chocolate milk, or in other words, childhood in a cup.