One of the hardest and often most difficult facts of life is that death and dying is part of the process. No matter how much we prepare ourselves, no matter how old or sick a person may be, we are never really ready to say good-bye and let go.
Last summer, I lost my MaMaw. Although she had been ill and suffering for much longer than any human should have to endure, I still wasn't ready to let go. My MaMaw was and always very dear to my heart. She was truly one in a million. She had a fierce temper, witty sense of humor, and a heart of gold.
In my Christmas stocking this past year, my mom gave me the best gift ever. A hand written recipe for that my grandmother had written years ago for her famous Million Dollar Pound Cake. It was a treasure that I wouldn't trade for the world.
My MaMaw loved the kitchen. It was by far her favorite room in the house. Many of my memories growing up are set in her kitchen. They stem from homemade breakfast before school, family dinners, and conversation after a wonderful meal.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of my MaMaw. She was always so proud of me and her entire family. I have long wished that I could share one more talk with her...hear her one of a kind high pitched laughter...hear one of her stories about Clarksville.
I wasn't really sure what I was going to do with her hand written recipe, but I knew I wanted to be able to cherish it forever. So I decided to get it framed so that a piece of her could be forever in my kitchen and forever in my heart.
Her kitchen was more than a kitchen. It was the setting for many stories that define myself and my family.
No comments:
Post a Comment