Memorials and pancakes...
Sunday evening number 6 and I went to a memorial service for one of our residents. The service was beautiful and energetic. We both were a bit nervous as we really didn't know anyone and perhaps the family would be offended that we attended. Thankfully they were not. Tears flowed throughout the room and someone had kindly placed tissues within easy reach.
We sat behind the worship team, unknowingly, and that was perhaps the best seat to be able to see everyone. We learned a lot about a woman that we thought we knew. Her daughter had her hands full caring for her momma. That woman had the energy of a two year-old, the impulsiveness of a five year-old and the mindset of a teenager. But beneath all that chaos she had a heart for her family.
The circumstances surrounding her death will never be clear and maybe that is for the best. Her grandchildren didn't, couldn't have understood why memaw was gone. If I could travel to her burial ceremony I would, but I can't. I'm sure I would learn more. Perhaps I would learn enough to set my mind at ease, perhaps not.
The evening was enough that I had to do something to get my mind off the memory of a person that had been the root of many phone calls at all hours of the night for the last several months. Not a weekend went by that I didn't receive at least one phone call.
She loved to cook so I decided making a mix might help. I threw together the ingredients for a pancake mix. I changed one ingredient out for another this time. I used powdered buttermilk instead of plain powered milk. It made a huge difference in taste!
When I went to bed that night I rested soundly. More soundly than I had in a long time. She loved her family...
We sat behind the worship team, unknowingly, and that was perhaps the best seat to be able to see everyone. We learned a lot about a woman that we thought we knew. Her daughter had her hands full caring for her momma. That woman had the energy of a two year-old, the impulsiveness of a five year-old and the mindset of a teenager. But beneath all that chaos she had a heart for her family.
The circumstances surrounding her death will never be clear and maybe that is for the best. Her grandchildren didn't, couldn't have understood why memaw was gone. If I could travel to her burial ceremony I would, but I can't. I'm sure I would learn more. Perhaps I would learn enough to set my mind at ease, perhaps not.
The evening was enough that I had to do something to get my mind off the memory of a person that had been the root of many phone calls at all hours of the night for the last several months. Not a weekend went by that I didn't receive at least one phone call.
She loved to cook so I decided making a mix might help. I threw together the ingredients for a pancake mix. I changed one ingredient out for another this time. I used powdered buttermilk instead of plain powered milk. It made a huge difference in taste!
When I went to bed that night I rested soundly. More soundly than I had in a long time. She loved her family...
Comments
Post a Comment