Memories of #MyMothersKitchen

Losing my mom when I was just 17 years old was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. While the pain of her death feels less acute in the day-to-day, I feel it now more in all those milestones she doesn’t get to be a part of. Graduating high school, earning my degree, that first real job, getting married, and especially when I had my kids.

I know how much she would have loved to be a part of all that.

600900_10151719802938465_1728495802_nEven though it’s been nearly 13 years since she died, I still have so many vivid memories of my mom. Probably the most special to me are the ones that involve food. My mother and I had a complicated relationship, but one thing we could always agree on was food! We spent so much time together in the kitchen; from late nights breaking up bread for Christmas dinner stuffing and polishing my grandmother’s silverware so it was ready for our family’s arrival, to her showing me my way around a rutabaga and the value of a solid supply of storage containers, those times spent in #MyMothersKitchen are some of my most treasured memories. Which is why I was touched and excited that asked me to share some of these memories in celebration of Mother’s Day. (Y’all know how much I love them already for the beautiful mini crib we got for D, which is now Charlie’s.)

Even though my mom cannot be here to meet my children, my boys are able to know their grandmother through the recipes I make for them, and the time that we now spend together in the kitchen. Family meals are a priority for us, and a special time of day to share whatever’s on our minds. I was lucky enough to save my mother’s favourite cookbook, and when I cook those recipes from my childhood for my boys, they are getting a taste of what it was like to know my mom. It makes me smile every time I see her handwriting within its pages. She’s also with me when I use her oven mitts to pull something out of the oven, or when I use her bread knife to slice a freshly baked loaf for a sandwich.

I can only hope that my boys have memories that are just as fond of our time spent together in the kitchen, when they are grown.


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