Little things, add up to gold.

One of my favorite pictures of mama and I at a family gathering, long before dementia took her quick wit.

I've saved the things that remind me of her and surround myself with them. They are all around me, inside and out. Outside- Yellow bells from her childhood home, the flowering plum tree she brought me (as just a little stick), my almond shrub, sweet william in the backyard, the mock orange (English dogwood) from outside my childhood bedroom.

During late spring mama would slip into my bedroom early and crank open my windows. The soft cafe curtains flowing in the breeze, allowing me to wake to the smell of fragrant blooms. She lovingly made my curtains by hand. As in, not on a sewing machine but literally "in her lap" one casing, one hem at a time. She added little decorative white braid to the crisp linen blend. Her signature look in our home, clean, minimalist and freshly pressed. There are other reminders of her as well. Little trinkets here and there. The little wooden box daddy brought her from one of his work trips. It's still here. She used it for her jewelry- her simple, classic style not requiring much adornment. Mama didn't own much jewelry, didn't wear earrings, only a few pins and her ring. The pins still remain in the box where I take them out occasionally and the memories fill me up again. Sunday mornings and mama choosing a pin to wear on her dress or blouse.

There are old mixing bowls I treasure and will pass on to my children one day. Then there's the pan. Isn't it funny where our true treasures lie? It's a simple 9 X 13 baking pan but it was hers. Every pan of chicken and dressing, every perfectly seasoned pork loin resting on a rack, food prepared for families mourning a loss, all cooked in this pan. Every family gathering it was filled with something delicious.

 Mama made baked beans like no one else. She started with dried great northern beans and made her own barbeque sauce. She added seasonings and onion and don't forget the bacon. Those beans went quickly each time they were served. Her famous lemon squares were prepared in that pan. I use her pan every week and I believe if memory serves, Danielle has already claimed it. So it will be, one day it will reside in the third generation as another memory of granny, passed down to another generation. I have no doubts my grandson will eventually take the pan, he's an old soul already at seven years old.

It's been a restless week, I haven't been sleeping well and not quite myself. If you've encountered me ill and out of sorts, my apologies. There have been great losses again, reminders of painful loss past and it's hard. Then last night about 9:30 p.m. I decided I needed to bake a pie. (I've always been a late night baker) I pulled out my pie dish and got started. Mama taught me how to make a perfectly flaky crust, I can almost see her hands working the flour. Before long its in the oven. Strangely, my husband is no longer sleepy.

So, we celebrated mothers day a little early with a late night slice of my mothers apple pie. A perfect start to my mothers day. So it was, last night I slept like a baby. Thank you Jesus for my mama.

Memories are treasures that add up to pure gold.