Passing on traditions are so important. So many times I wish I had the opportunity to just pick up the phone, call heaven, and ask my mom a "how to" or a "remember this" question. It has been a year since my mother passed a way, but she actually lost her memory long before that. Steve's mom has had numerous aneurysms, so we feel we lost her many years ago, even though her body is still continuing on.
Mornings are hard, at this time, to get up and be motivated. On Friday, it will have been three weeks since back surgery. I see a definite improvement in mobility and pain relief, however it is more difficult to get going each day when there are so many things you want to do and the ole body cannot assist you in doing them. I must remember these times with an attitude of gratefulness. At this time, I am able to take my day at whatever tempo I care to and also to use any excuse in the book to not do something.
Monday afternoon was an unexpected pleasure to pass on tradition, accomplish something I wanted to accomplish and be with my favorite kids. Kyle, a senior this next year and his sister, Katie, a sophomore, arrived late in the afternoon to help with one of my tasks. They are the most fun young adults to be around. After a quick run to the store, they set out to make a double batch "from scratch" buttermilk brownies. this was Steve's mom's recipe.
In between the teasing, laughter and delight, the brownies were finally completed. The first batch was delivered to our neighbors, who just lost a relative, and the other batch, safely in the freezer, for the company we expect to have stay with us this weekend.
The evening came to an end after more family ate dinner provided by Kyle and Grandpa Steve. Good thing we have great cooking male relatives.
When we designed our kitchen, we discussed, at length, how we wanted it to be a community place with lots of room for art, cooking, sewing, etc. The 5 x 7 foot island has and continues to serve us well. Just can't believe how quickly our grandchildren keep maturing and how proud we are of them.
Love you guys,
Grandma Jan
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