Sometimes the days fly by and I’m laying in bed at 11 at night like “What just happened? Who are those giant little people who were sitting at my dinner table? Am I paying enough attention? Am I giving them enough?”
But last weekend, we did it.
We had one of those days that I hope lives in the yellow halls of their childhood memories forever.
Only the best, most wonderful, most simple pork chops known to man. Only the incredible pork chops the require three ingredients and should never be eaten with anything other than roasted broccoli and mashed potatoes. Only the pork chops covered in that amazing gravy that is the actual epitome of what your childhood tasted like.
We’re finding that celebrating a holiday doesn’t have to be a show. It just has to be what we want it to be. And this weekend is all about hope, good food, and time.
What has lasted in her absence is what often seems to last: Food. Her perfect, perfect Salmon Soufflé. Now, because both Aunt Sue and Mamaw are beyond us, I can say what I’m about to say, without fear of an uprising. Aunt Sue’s Salmon Soufflé wins. It is the winner of a life-long feud: Mamaw’s Salmon Loaf or Aunt Sue’s Salmon Soufflé?
Tonight I made this soup with Mom for the first time. We talked through her youth. We did math and recollected dates. I corrected the order of the time before they knew one another in my memory.
I remember reading Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s Coney Island Mind on the dock of my grandparent’s summer home in Okoboji, Iowa one summer a lifetime ago. One of the last summers I had before obligation became year round.