came upon some old pictures the other day.
they resonated with me because i am my mother now,
caring for young children,
carrying a baby.
I remember her almost always letting me "help" or at the least, "watch" her in the kitchen. Here she is making applesauce, washing, peeling and coring the apples to begin the process.
Dinner time was important.
Everyone around the table.
I still don't know how she did it,
meal after meal after meal for all those growing bodies, (4 sons)
and my Dad. Filling their bellies with so much love.
Made from scratch delights.
I think we're singing a song here, (my sister Fan has her singing face on). :)
We often sang our prayers, as we now do today around our table. And in the middle of it all, a little jar with a fresh pink flower.
Not sure if that was my Mother's doing, but it's the little things that were, (and still are) important in making a house a home.
Even just a simple bud in a vase.
The dishes at this table now belong to me, our "everyday" dishes that Mom was going to sell at a garage sale one year, I bought them from her, ever the business woman, she wasn't about to give them away....even to her own daughter!! Now I feed my children with them. The circle of life.
(side note: that's me on her lap, and boy, does that face ever look familiar, I see it in my girl when she's forced to listen, or stay at the table against her wishes....I think that's what's happening here as well)!!
So many lunches to pack.
The broom rests on the wooden chair.
She flies around the corner getting things done
at the speed of life.
The sun has not yet risen.
THOSE HANDS have worked so hard in her lifetime, raising 8 children under her care; providing comfort, gardening, cooking, baking her famous sho-fly pies, cleaning, writing handwritten letters, serving, praying, milking cows, canning, giving her newborn grandchildren their first baths, feeding armies of people, collecting lovely dishes, and the list goes on.
a legacy of love,
thank you doesn't seem enough.
|BIRTHDAY BREAKFAST WITH OUR MOM.|
"kettle sings a morning song,
the bacon's frying, babies crying
I soak up the sights and sounds.
Minutes turn to days and I wish that I could
slow it down.
Time is a thief I would rob."