I love this time of year and as I drive back into my old neighborhood to tutor students I have a sense of deja vu. I remember a time my mother and I would prepare for the holidays by cooking and baking up a storm. By the end of our labors we would have a stack of tins filled with luscious delights to share with friends and family who invariably dropped by to wish us well.
Back then we had a metal kitchen table with a formica top. It may not have been elegant but it was great as a prep area. It didn’t really matter how littered it became. It took little time or effort to clean it as good as new and ready for the next meal or project.
My mother’s specialty was Chocolate Fudge which also became a favorite of our guests. Maybe I’m embellishing my recollections but it has always seemed to me to be the best version of chocolate fudge that I have ever eaten. It was an elegant treat that Mama only created for the Christmas holidays. We waited with anticipation when Thanksgiving arrived and she gathered the ingredients together. We wanted to devour the homemade candy as soon as it was finished but Mama always made us save it for the special times that would be coming in the weeks ahead. Continue reading “Holiday Memories”
Birthdays are a special gift in and of themselves. There is something breathtaking about making it to another milestone even when the road there may have been a bit rough. It’s one of those days when the greetings prove that you are never really alone. There is more love in your life than you may ever imagine. Birthdays are a time when you realize that you are probably a great deal tougher than you may have thought, especially when you get into the higher numbers that indicate that you are one of the senior members of society. 
It’s my birthday in a few hours. I have spent sixty seven years on this earth. I have seen much. I lost my father at the age of eight and watched my mother devolve into extreme mental illness when I was twenty years old. I have lost a number of good friends and many relatives. I have seen a President assassinated and a hero shot down. I have watched friends coming back from Vietnam maimed or in coffins. I witnessed the end of segregation and the inauguration of the first black President. My children have grown and blessed me with seven grandchildren who have unfortunately lived in a world more uncertain than the one I knew when I was a kid. I have had a happy marriage and a wonderful career that allowed me to have a very meaningful life and to meet some of the finest people that I have ever known. While I have seen much evil, I like to believe that the vast majority of the world’s people are truly good. I suppose that I am a cockeyed optimist even after all these years. I prefer being that way rather then thinking that my glass is half empty. 
Old habits die hard. I used to measure every penny that I spent because it was necessary to do so. Now I continue to do so simply because it just feels right. When I was a child after my father died our family lived on a very strict budget. There was little room for extravagances. We wasted nothing. Even the containers inside which our purchases were packaged became valuable. We used the paper bags to cover our school books, as drop cloths when we painted, and to hold trash. I had an entire set of doll furniture fashioned from boxes, cans, and scraps of cloth. Our toys were stored inside cartons that once held fruit and vegetables. Our mother made a big roast on Sunday and then proceeded to use the leftovers to fashion at least two more meals during the week. Soft drinks and sweets were only in our home for parties and special occasions. We repaired and repurposed everything that we owned until it literally fell apart from use and age. 
All It Takes Is A Little Love 