Can we just go back in time? What is happening in our country is abhorrent and I am grateful my parents are not alive to see all they fought for in WWII slowly being destroyed by the fascist, illegitimate regime that has taken over our country. Needing some salve for the heart and mind and wishing for a more peaceful time in history I decided to post this memory on my Moon Child blog. Hope it brings you a thimble of comfort.
Memories...
Bought a great little cookbook cabinet this week. Had searched for one for years and gave up... then this last week one just popped up and now it sits in my kitchen area. I'll be painting it soon and just ordered eclectic glass pulls for the doors. As I loaded my cookbooks into their new home I came across my mom's stacks and stacks of recipes. I knew they were there... just could not dive into that deep pool for all these years. I don't ever remember mom using an official cookbook. Yet she had stacks and stacks and stacks of pamphlets from the local butcher or grocery store and very cool hand clipped recipes from the newspaper ... as a result I spent the day traveling back in time.
Over 16 years since you've been gone mom. Just couldn't bring myself to read all your recipes and hand written notes until now. Maybe that's why this great little cookbook cabinet crossed my path. It was time... time to heal... time to feel close to you again. So nice to feel you here with me today... your presence... your smile... the scent of you... your patient love. There were many recipes from your friends too, who I remember from childhood. I could see you all visiting at coffee clutches and pot luck parties, balancing plates of food on your knees while you laughed, talked and polished off each others creations. Everyone always so willing to share their recipes, some arriving with prepared, manually typed, personalized, kitchen index cards. Most though are clipped from newspapers or are neatly hand written. Like a finger print on my heart there is something so special about coming across the handwriting of someone you love who is now gone from this earth.
Today it was the late 60s and early 70s and I sat with you, mom, once more in the turquoise kitchen of the vacation trailer at the river while you sipped your coffee and clipped recipes. I could smell and taste your yummy home cooked meals of love... some now still my 'go to' comfort foods. Was it the bountiful, wonderful smells and taste or the love you poured into each meal that made them each so scrumptious? Some recipes I read brought happy smiles and wonderment. Fruitcake? Sooooo many recipes for fruitcake and beer bread.
Fond memories flooded in of your care packages in the 80s filled with all sorts of sweet breads at Christmas time. Dad had passed on... you were filling your time staying busy doing holiday baking. Then arrived at my place with piles and piles of small and large loaves of cranberry-orange, banana, pumpkin and zucchini breads and, yes, fruitcake. Each carefully wrapped with tidy aluminum foil. Then when I shared them with friends they fell apart as I cut into them... crumbling completely... as you had forgotten to add the eggs. We laughed so much over that one. You were grieving... I got it. I remember saying, "That's ok... they have great flavor! I can think of something to do with the remainder." Then got creative... nothing gone to waste.
Thank you for always thinking of others. Yes... I miss you.... forever. Thank you for the treasured memories... salve for the heart. Thanks for spending the day with me. It was a very good day.
