Lessons Without Notes
In one week the house that has been central to my life since I was 11 years old will be owned for the first time ever by someone other than my parents, Laura and Olin Elzey. On Friday when we walked in I was struck by how much it still felt like Mother's house. I had assumed that when the bedrooms were empty and the kitchen no longer centered on my paternal grandparents' round oak table that I would no longer feel the attachment to this house under contract. With or without furniture this house still brought back memories of a good chunk of my life and even with most of her possessions gone I could still picture Laura Parsons Elzey in these rooms.
The time had come to leave. Rooms had been cleaned, pictures sorted, and outdated food products trashed, . Although I was pleased that the house had sold, that pleasure was cut by the sorrow over the loss of my mother as well as the door closing on a large segment of my life.
I wondered as I looked around for the last time what part of this house was the dearest to me. I realized as I looked at the dining room table, leaves down and no longer resting center stage, that this room as well as the kitchen held a good portion of my memories. The 2 rooms where food was prepared and served as well as the porch where good weather found us at mealtime were the spaces where food and conversations formed the glue for our family.
When we had hamburgers Mom would make 8 for her family of 7 out of only 1 pound of ground meat. Daddy was offered the extra burger. This was a lesson played out before us. Frugality was important . The offer of the second burger was just as clear a sign of respect as her no bad news as Daddy enters the back door at night rule. Years passed and some of us were home for a visit. The vegetables were being passed and Daddy looked like he was going to take some. He suddenly dropped the spoon and said he used to set a good example by eating them but now we were grown, no more. This was a small example of a responsible parent as well as respect for my mother who I'm sure urged such behavior.
Meals served in the dining room were usually special occasions or Sundays. Often we ate on my paternal grandmother's dishes. My father was usually in the dining room urging caution as we took out of the walnut corner cupboard his mother's china. He studied our every move as he encouraged us to take care with each and every piece. In a small way this was another lesson acted out as we learned to value what those before us had passed on.
Special meals were for our nuclear family, extended family and friends. A lot of recipes were ones that had stood the test of time. When flounder fillets were on the menu,mother took the time to make my grandmother's corn bread baked in a cast iron pan. Lemon cake pie and prune cake were 2 more recipes that had passed from one generation to the next. I remember well making cookies with my mom. They were gifted or sold but we still managed to eat many. I never felt my mom was out to impress anyone with her cooking, Especially when we were growing up there was little time to explore new culinary pursuits and she knew the foods she learned to prepare from her mother satisfied. Grandmother wowed everyone at holidays with her fluffy potato rolls topped with the required sugar water and whenever possible Mother delighted us with these rolls as well, I and my siblings have continued to use many of her recipes.
My grandmom, uncle and aunt would gather to celebrate our birthdays. For most of our birthdays we would ask one friend over. The table would be full of relatives except for one friend, Birthday parties became part of my life when our children were young and we were far from family. Even as we lived far from our roots we still felt the pull of family. It was the time around the table as we ate that helped to bond us together as we saw lessons acted out in front of us.
Meals eaten together around a table, Recipes that had been used by a least 3 generations. Chairs occupied with diverse personalities. Parents who loved well. God often teaches people well with the simplest of scripts.
The time had come to leave. Rooms had been cleaned, pictures sorted, and outdated food products trashed, . Although I was pleased that the house had sold, that pleasure was cut by the sorrow over the loss of my mother as well as the door closing on a large segment of my life.
I wondered as I looked around for the last time what part of this house was the dearest to me. I realized as I looked at the dining room table, leaves down and no longer resting center stage, that this room as well as the kitchen held a good portion of my memories. The 2 rooms where food was prepared and served as well as the porch where good weather found us at mealtime were the spaces where food and conversations formed the glue for our family.
When we had hamburgers Mom would make 8 for her family of 7 out of only 1 pound of ground meat. Daddy was offered the extra burger. This was a lesson played out before us. Frugality was important . The offer of the second burger was just as clear a sign of respect as her no bad news as Daddy enters the back door at night rule. Years passed and some of us were home for a visit. The vegetables were being passed and Daddy looked like he was going to take some. He suddenly dropped the spoon and said he used to set a good example by eating them but now we were grown, no more. This was a small example of a responsible parent as well as respect for my mother who I'm sure urged such behavior.
Meals served in the dining room were usually special occasions or Sundays. Often we ate on my paternal grandmother's dishes. My father was usually in the dining room urging caution as we took out of the walnut corner cupboard his mother's china. He studied our every move as he encouraged us to take care with each and every piece. In a small way this was another lesson acted out as we learned to value what those before us had passed on.
Special meals were for our nuclear family, extended family and friends. A lot of recipes were ones that had stood the test of time. When flounder fillets were on the menu,mother took the time to make my grandmother's corn bread baked in a cast iron pan. Lemon cake pie and prune cake were 2 more recipes that had passed from one generation to the next. I remember well making cookies with my mom. They were gifted or sold but we still managed to eat many. I never felt my mom was out to impress anyone with her cooking, Especially when we were growing up there was little time to explore new culinary pursuits and she knew the foods she learned to prepare from her mother satisfied. Grandmother wowed everyone at holidays with her fluffy potato rolls topped with the required sugar water and whenever possible Mother delighted us with these rolls as well, I and my siblings have continued to use many of her recipes.
My grandmom, uncle and aunt would gather to celebrate our birthdays. For most of our birthdays we would ask one friend over. The table would be full of relatives except for one friend, Birthday parties became part of my life when our children were young and we were far from family. Even as we lived far from our roots we still felt the pull of family. It was the time around the table as we ate that helped to bond us together as we saw lessons acted out in front of us.
Meals eaten together around a table, Recipes that had been used by a least 3 generations. Chairs occupied with diverse personalities. Parents who loved well. God often teaches people well with the simplest of scripts.
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