Since June, food has been in the forefront of my thoughts. First, there was the trip to Italy in the second half of June where my mom, my sister and I savored the wonderful delights of Northern Italian cuisine–my clothes still don’t quite fit as they should… Many of the foods, and the ways in which they were prepared, reminded us of long-ago traditional family dinners.
Then, there was the wonderful birthday cake I created for my twin daughters’ birthday in early July. Taking both girls’ ideas and talking about how to combine their individual wishes, we created a three-layer cheesecake for their birthday. Our collaboration became a layer of flourless chocolate cake, followed by a layer of plain cheesecake, and finished with a creamy, gooey, peanut butter topping. It was a hit, even though we acknowledged that we’ll need to make some adjustments for size the next time we make it. A significant memory of their 15th birthday was created that day.
This past week, my mind has been on identifying calcium-rich foods and recipes for my mom–foods to increase the chances that her bone fractures heal.
Two weeks ago, however, my focus was on the food I would serve my adult daughter and her family during their eight-day stay with us. In addition to considerations for what my grandchildren’s preferences were, I had to calculate the preparation of food for twice as many people! What I hadn’t considered–and what unfolded during the course of the week–was my realization that food can be the loving glue securing or repairing personal relationships.
My daughter left home to live with her father and his family when she was 14 years old, feeling the need to break away from what she considered to be my maternal hold on her. That was 21 years ago. Throughout the subsequent years, our relationship has been challenged by both physical and emotional distance. During her visit–the longest amount of time we’ve spent together in ten years–my daughter and I reconnected in ways I never dreamed possible.
Much of our reconnecting was through the food I prepared and served. For instance, knowing that Amanda always loved our family’s spaghetti sauce, and that every member of my family has always loved walking into a house and being greeted by that familiar smell, I began preparing it the morning of their anticipated arrival. As predicted, she entered our house–a home in a state she’d never before visited–and immediately welled up with tears, mostly because we were seeing each other for the first time in almost four years. Additionally, though, she was transported back to the days when she’d enter our home and smell that I was in the midst of preparing that same sauce. Our first night together, here in Colorado, gave her the opportunity to re-experience one of her childhood delights and share one of our traditional family meals with her husband and children.
As the week progressed, I prepared surprises such as the homemade waffles eaten in our home since the days when my grandmother would visit my childhood home and make them for me and my sister. It was our ritual: Nonna would come for a week’s stay and make waffles for my sister and me in the morning. We all knew those waffles were a required ingredient for her visit. Nonna taught me and my sister how to eat them as little finger sandwiches, with only melted butter in between the two layers. When we had our second helping (there was always a second helping), we would all add strawberry jam to the layers–Nonna’s favorite jam.
On “waffle morning,” during Amanda’s stay, she readied to eat her waffles, showing her children and husband how she’d eaten them as a child. I realized I had passed on my grandmother’s tradition–there she was eating her buttered finger sandwich waffles!
One morning as we prepared a different breakfast together, she and I reminisced about other foods and meals she remembered. As I listened, I realized that no matter how far apart we had been, the foods I’d prepared had stayed with her, along with the nurturing love I’d folded in. As her husband said, each meal was especially wonderful because it was made with love.
When I think back on our life together, I usually remember the most challenging and difficult moments first. One of the many gifts I received during Amanda’s visit was the realization that she and I share a history filled with much love and caring. She showed me that what she carries in her heart are the many experiences of that deep, binding love. Our hearts have been and forever will be connected to each other–glued together by the foods passed down through past generations and cemented together by a lifetime of memories and experiences.
Before the week was over I discovered another gift through creating a few new dishes together. I saw how the new creations reflected the changes that have come about for each of us during our years away from each other. I am grateful that as we move forward, we have no need to cling desperately to the past. Instead, we can continue to grow and evolve, adding new traditions and memories to our family’s rich history. All glued together by the love that continues to grow and evolve as well.
