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I’ve talked to you before about my mom’s kitchen. It had never been updated…not for want of me trying to convince her. I think Mr. FixIt has a hard time with change? That woman…as wonderful as she was…did not want anything changed, save for the occasional fresh coat of paint or maybe window curtains.

When she died and I was left to fix the house up to sell, the kitchen was the first thing I tackled after the belongings were dispersed. I talked to Wanda Belle a lot in those months living in my childhood home. It was healing and cathartic and made me wish she would have let me do this for her.

Mom was NOT a very good cook. I’ve told you the story of her making her hamburger gravy down by adding instant coffee, right? But there were two things she made that were out of this world…Pineapple Upside Down Cake and Potato Soup. They were legendary and she always fixed them for me when I came home to visit.

I’ve tried to make my potato soup taste like hers to no avail. Maybe it tasted so wonderful because my tastebuds were young. Remember when you just just taste the green of a hot summer day? But, I’m more inclined to think the cake and the soup were so delicious because my mom made them for me. There was love in every bite. I miss that. I miss HER.

There’s never an easy time to lose your mom. Mr. FixIt lost his mom when she was in her 50’s. My mom was 78, and I thought that was way too young to lose her. That’s only six years older than I am. I remember when I thought 78 was ancient. Thinking changes when you’re slipping into the last decade or two of your life. Suddenly 78 doesn’t sound so old.

Mr. FixIt took good care of me yesterday. I sat in my Big Red Chair on a heating pad all day and he made supper…a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and a bowl of my potato soup warmed up. It was so warm and soothing. 

Kinda like a hug from my mom.

🩵

“but Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often.”   ‭‭Luke‬ ‭2‬:‭19‬ ‭NLT‬‬

***Gratitude Journal***   
Today I am grateful for warm memories of my mom…I can look at my hands and see hers more and more as I age. I’m grateful for a loving husband that takes care of me when I’m not feeling strong. I’m grateful I can walk in the kitchen and pull fresh food from the fridge and pantry to feed us, draw fresh water from the tap with a twist of the wrist, a soft place to lay my head, and a safe roof over my head. I have been rich and I have been poor. The key to a good life is being grateful no matter where you’re standing.

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