She always had fresh baked cookies in the Buddha cookie jar. Her body moved smoothly and gracefully through the kitchen. No matter what she baked, it always tasted like Nana's, and no one else's. Always calm and gathered. She is a think-before-you-speak type of lady. But don't let that fool you, she will be sure to tell you exactly whats on her mind. Her house always smelled of fresh baked pie, beef stew simmering on the stove, peach candles and just like a home from The Walden's or Anne of Green Gables might smell. She was an honest to goodness make it from scratch, while you crochet a blanket type of lady. She always had a big vegetable garden when her boys were young, canning hundreds of jars of fresh food to get them through the winter.
This is my Nana. I may speak of her as if she is gone, but on the contrary, she is very much here.
I had breakfast with her last week. Watching her move much slower, giving her an arm to lean on, it is all so
beautiful. Watching her take her time, putting cream into her decaf, cutting and enjoying every bite of her french toast. Talking to her about recipes I'm making, while hoping to get suggestions and tips to make them that much better. While she talks, her hands make the motions of what she is cooking, moving ever so gracefully. To be honest, at that breakfast table, i can't remember a lot of what we talked about. What i do remember is just feeling good, sitting at the table with her, enjoying her peace and presence.
If she has taught me anything about life, its to simply enjoy what you do, to always have hobbies and to slow down. Not just because she is older, but she has always had that slow pace type of life. I'm sure when she had five young boys under foot, that was a different story. But since i remember she has been the type of grandmother that grounds me and always makes me feel relaxed.
For my bridal shower, she gave me a recipe box. In it was hand written family favorite recipes of hers. From her macaroni & cheese, to dilly beans, to stay-a-bed stew.
It was all there.
I don't think I'll ever be able to show her how much that means to me.
Every time i pull out the recipe box to cook, i feel her there with me ::
Helping me roll out sugar cookies, showing me how to use the meat grinder she bought when my dad was a baby.
Giving me gentle, yet strong encouragement when i said i wanted to go to architecture school, but was nervous.
Sitting for hours in her cozy living room watching Hallmark Hall of Fame's, while we crafted and made boxes out of calendars and houses out of popsicle sticks.
The more i grow, the more i realize how very lucky i have been to have her as one of my role models.
My love for cooking from scratch, a homemade lifestyle, crafting and being an artist come partly from her.
My desire to keep my home a cozy place filled with the smells of fresh food simmering and pies baking reminds me of her.
Her comfort and her strength.
Her grace.
