Thinky thoughts on Thanksgiving
Nov. 27th, 2008 11:20 amHam is in the oven, glazed with brown sugar and studded with cloves, pineapple rings, and maraschino cherries.
YUM!!!
I'm feeling all domestic goddess today, and yet somehow still sad. It's like a torch is being passed in our household. Mom has always cooked, and even though she was able to come home early, she has chosen to sit back and let Tisha and I carry on as planned. It is good, but bittersweet at the same time. It also means she gets to hear my imaginative curses as I tackle the kitchen difficulties, such as why my oven mitts are never in the place I just laid them down at and me slicing my hand on the aluminum foil box. I keep hearing her chuckle at me from the living room while I putter in the kitchen.
I never know how much longer I will have her with me, how many more holidays we will share. I'm looking at the very real possibility of moving away from Cushing soon, and who knows how often we will have the chance to be together on Thanksgiving.
I will take this torch from your hands, Mother. Hands that held me when I was a baby, hands that I've watched my entire life to learn how to accomplish a multitude of tasks. I will take your recipes and your tips and I will hold them in my heart and I will someday pass them on to your grandchildren. I will do this out of love for you, out of love for tradition.
But you get to cook Christmas dinner.
YUM!!!
I'm feeling all domestic goddess today, and yet somehow still sad. It's like a torch is being passed in our household. Mom has always cooked, and even though she was able to come home early, she has chosen to sit back and let Tisha and I carry on as planned. It is good, but bittersweet at the same time. It also means she gets to hear my imaginative curses as I tackle the kitchen difficulties, such as why my oven mitts are never in the place I just laid them down at and me slicing my hand on the aluminum foil box. I keep hearing her chuckle at me from the living room while I putter in the kitchen.
I never know how much longer I will have her with me, how many more holidays we will share. I'm looking at the very real possibility of moving away from Cushing soon, and who knows how often we will have the chance to be together on Thanksgiving.
I will take this torch from your hands, Mother. Hands that held me when I was a baby, hands that I've watched my entire life to learn how to accomplish a multitude of tasks. I will take your recipes and your tips and I will hold them in my heart and I will someday pass them on to your grandchildren. I will do this out of love for you, out of love for tradition.
But you get to cook Christmas dinner.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 05:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 06:21 pm (UTC)Well said - esp. the end-zinger...
no subject
Date: 2008-11-27 06:44 pm (UTC)LOL, I still would make my mom cook Christmas dinner. (She does a much better prime rib than I can...).