I can remember when I was little, when it would rain, my Mom would always say, "Reach out your hands and catch as many raindrops as you can. For every one you catch, itís how much you love me and for every one you miss, thatís how much I love you.Ē To this day, whenever it rains, I always remember those words.
I have missed her a lot today. I spent the day in the kitchen making her recipes and it brought back so many memories. I wanted to talk to her and tell her how grateful I am to her for sharing her love for this art. Cooking truly is an art form. It fills the senses just like music or a painting...actually every one of the senses if you think about it. The sound of that steak sizzling in the pan. The feel of those fresh vine ripe tomatoes. The smell of that fresh baked bread in the oven. The thrill of seeing and tasting the finished dish. I only wish I could share that with my Mom now that I am old enough to truly appreciate the gift she left me.
I especially missed her today when I was making her famous apple fritters and thought boy she would be so proud if she could see how they turned out. I love sharing her recipes with all of you and I encourage you to do the same with your children so that you can make your own memories that will never be forgotten. While I very much enjoy sharing her recipes so that I can honor her name, it can be so hard at times. So many memories come flooding back when I open those little recipe boxes and read all her little notes about teaching me how to cook.
I don't like the memories because the tears come to easily, and once again I break a promise to myself. It's a constant battle. It's a war between remembering and forgetting. There are so many wonderful memories that you keep hidden, but sometimes you just want to stop and let them rush over you. You get so caught up in the moment and your heart fills with joy and... then the inevitable happens. You end up missing them and yearning for their presence. Your heart breaks and the tears flow and you promise never to go there again. But you do.
It is times like this that I have to remember the poem that she left in one of those old recipe boxes. I am certain it was placed there intentionally as she knew one day I would need to see it and feel comfort on nights like this. It is a neatly folded tiny scrap of paper that goes like this.....
I'm Standing Right Next To You
You can't see me or touch me
but I'm standing right next to you.
It's sad to see you cry for me
I wish you only knew.
I'm standing right next to you.
Even though you think I'm gone,
I've really never left your side
I've been here all along.
So please be brave and dry the tears,
don't let your grief show through.
I love you from a different place,
and I'm standing right next to you.