Sweet Memories

Happy birthday, Mom!  When Andrea made Reid’s and Grant’s fire truck birthday cake this year, it brought back fond memories of the birthday cakes you made for us.  Other than the superheroes from cake molds and perhaps a few sports balls here and there, the specific cake designs have faded from memory.  What has stayed with me is the care that went into them, the effort to create something special for me, and successful results (not to mention the lifelong love of desserts).  I realize now as I didn’t then that it was never about the cake, it was about the relationship it represented.  So thank you, Mom.  I wish we there to make you a cake for your birthday.

The back reads, "Frequent helper in the kitchen."

 And it’s because of you that I am able to make a cake.  I seem to recall a stretch in middle school when I was making a white cake with some sort of add-in on a weekly basis, usually coinciding with Seinfeld on Thursday nights (which I’m not sure you ever watched).   In addition to cake, there are the cookies, brownies, cinnamon rolls (pattern, anyone?), bread, biscuits, chicken—just about anything, really.  Put a recipe in front of me, I can make it.  Without a recipe, I’m happy to experiment.  I remember adventurous left-over experiments on Sunday afternoons when the Saturday pizza was gone, and always accompanied by salsa and chips.  I’m grateful for the time we spent in the kitchen together—for the skills it imparted, but also for the quality time itself.  I find myself doing the same thing with my children.  Just this morning, Reid helped me make pancake batter before everyone else woke up.  Yesterday, both Reid and Grant helped make blueberry muffins.  Last week, it was snickerdoodles.  The cycle continues.  I hope they find the same pleasure in it that I did as they sneak bites of dough, lick the batter off spoons, and watch a little work produce delicious results.

Reid and Grant "helping" in August 2011.

Because of you, making and eating food is a family experience for us.  We’ve tried to replicate our practice of family meals.  Those were often the best of times, and only occasionally the worst of times.  Once again, my memories are less about the food served than the family time—the laughing, teasing, joking…criticizing—and Jeopardy!  But I do remember the food.  I recall chicken.  Lots of chicken.  Cajun chicken (with barbecue sauce, of course), barbecue chicken, chicken casserole, cashew chicken, chicken chili surprise, and more.  I’m still a fan.  And then there were the ever-present mashed potatoes, black-eyed peas, green beans, which will forever have a place in my heart.  As for our lives in general, you provided a good, solid, comforting foundation to build on.  Or, if you will, a nice springboard for pursuing our own interests.

So thank you, Mom, for teaching me and inspiring me.  Thank your for the memories and for the memories my family will have as a result.  Happy birthday!