a legacy of creation

As years have gone by, I have become more and more fond of cooking. I love to entertain and cook creative and well-balanced meals for friends and family at almost any chance I get.

Today I made homemade dill bread, apple crisp, and I threw together a potato veggie casserole as well.

Later, as I was talking to Jonathan about the meal, I came to a revelation. This is not just a love for cooking. I don't love to cook just because I like food or like to make food for others.

There is a part of me that relives my childhood every time I turn on the mixer, or chop up vegetables, or try something new and creative. A part of me that is reminded of my mother and all the wonderful things I did with her and learned from her.

As I was making the dill bread, I was reminded of Sunday afternoons after church... eating fresh hot bread with melted butter along with mom's potroast or chili.

As I made the apple crisp, it took me back to Autumn growing up as a child. The days getting cooler, the apples and apple cider from the Apple Cabin right down the road. Carving pumpkins, and then Thanksgiving at Grandma's house.

As I made the casserole, I take a walk down memory lane, watching and helping my mom cook meals... and I realize, yet again, how wonderful, creative, and servant-hearted my mother really was.

She'd get up, then get us kids up, teach us at home in all sorts of creative ways until lunch time. Make us a nice meal for lunch, sometimes even getting creative with that (and she almost always let us help). Then we'd either finish up school or go outside to play while she began her afternoon routine of dinner preparation and cooking. After dinner, she'd spend a little time with the family, but never left a dirty kitchen, not to mention she had to prepare school lessons for the next day. She was always prepared, and was always doing something helpful. 

Never did I see her sitting watching TV during the day. Rarely did I see her just sitting reading a book. Occassionally, she would talk to a friend on the phone. But almost always, she was cooking, preparing, cleaning, and keeping house. And she did it so well. The food was 99.9% of the time WONDERFUL, and very rarely "premade". The house was organized and clean, until she no longer was able to do all the things she used to do as her MS got worse. And she always found time for us, to involve and create and explore with us. 

She enabled us with the gift of creation. Of creating our own memories, our own games, our own choices... she passed on a priceless gift.

So now, when I pick up a pot or pan, when I see a sink full of dishes and my guests or husband satisfied with another good meal... I have one more reason to be thankful to my mother, and one more reason to hope for the future and pass it down to my own children.

Thank you, mom. I'm proud of all you did, and all that you were. You continue to be more beautiful and wonderful to me every day as I learn more of how to be a friend, a wife, a daughter, and some day--a mother. I love you.