Had Any Chocolate Lately?

I don't know about you, but I simply adore chocolate. It's one of those things I hope they have in heaven or I'm not going. :) Seriously though, eating chocolate, at least for me, is kind of like taking a day off like Memorial Day. It's a day when I not only get to eat some of my favorite foods, but I get to think about those who have gone before me and what they've contributed to my life.

 

My Grandma Ranck was a great cook, and while I could also say I'm a great cook because of her, I'm not. What I learned from my grandmother was that she was generous when it came to her time. And when I stayed at her house I felt just like a princess.

Sure, I was spoiled rotten, but I was also listened to and accepted for the child I was; not altogether sure of myself, and shy as the day was long. Still, she was my grand example of assurity and graciousness. She could see in me things I wasn't yet ready to see or believe I had within myself. And perhaps all grandmothers are like that. If they're not, they should be.

It took me a few years, but after I began writing, my grandmother took it seriously even before I was really any good. She read everything I'd written, kept all the gifts of writing I'd given her; I knew this because years later my mother handed me a folder. In it were all of the gifts of writing I had given her. These gifts were a bit like chocolate. Okay, they were better than chocolate. I felt as if I could swim in their love forever and only get fat knowing that she loved me no matter where I was at in life.

I hope all grandmother's are like that.

Writing About the Simple Things

Today I'm feeling a bit melancholy.

I am thinking of my grandmother who passed away a few years ago--she was my best friend and an example of love. I don't remember her ever yelling at me, and when she spoke to me it was at my eye level, as though she respected every word I said.

Photo by: sweetenough, courtesy of Flickr

Years ago, actually the year was 1997, I wrote a short story about my experiences at her house. And I think it's interesting that what I remember most are the simple things. You know. The way she made breakfast. The creek in her backyard. The cherry tree that should have been called a "cheery" tree for all the joy it gave me.

Since tomorrow is Mother's Day, I hope you will take a few moments, maybe even longer, to think about the women you love and appreciate in your life. 

 

What is it that you remember most about your mother or grandmother? Is it the way she baked pies? The way her hands felt as they touched your cheeks after you’d been crying?

I have often wondered what will be remembered most about me. What will I leave behind for my posterity to remember and record? Will it be that I was a writer? Or will a closer answer be that I had a testimony of the Lord? Will it be the little things like the way I parted my hair, or the songs I sung, or the stories I knew by heart?

When you remember your mother or grandmother I hope you make a place for the simple things. Simple things are important, like a bird’s song in the morning, an organ recital for one, or a breakfast of eggs, sausage, pancakes and grapefruit with a serrated spoon. 

Write down what you remember. Note the simple things in your life that carry meaning. It will make a difference to you and to all the lives you touch.