This is my mom. Isn’t she beautiful?
This is her first Mother’s Day since being diagnosed with ALS. That also means it’s the first Mother’s Day I’ve really, truly struggled with. Lots of folks are estranged from their mothers or have lost them. Two of my mom’s sisters passed away years ago, and I’ve always felt a sort of sympathetic loss for my cousins on Mother’s Day, but I can’t know their pain. My siblings, cousins and I also lost our grandma last summer. She was a second mom–and in some ways a more “real” mom–to my cousins, and now they’ve lost her. It’s devastating.
I can’t bear the thought of losing my mom. So rather than focusing on the negative, I did something this morning that I thought would help bridge the physical distance between us; something she taught me; something that represents to me sweetness, thoughtfulness and love.
I made no-bake cookies.
For so many of my elementary school years, I brought a big Tupperware container filled with these cookies to school to share with my classmates on my birthday. As an adult, I botched many, many batches of this simple recipe trying to perfect it when I missed my mom and needed that sense of comfort. I’ve tried adding my own touches over the years, but I’ve returned to my mom’s basic, tried-and-true recipe. The soft, semi-dry texture of the sugary chocolate, oats and peanut butter take me back to those chilly almost-spring days of my childhood.
Feelings of sharing with friends and being in the spotlight for a moment wash over me. I was stiflingly shy when I was young, and I didn’t have many friends. But on my birthday, everyone was my friend. That was a gift to me from my mom. More than any toy my parents may have bought for me on my birthday, I hold this gift dearest.
Thank you, Mom, for this and so much more. Happy Mother’s Day. I love you.
Friends, do you have a comfort food? A special way of honoring your mom on Mother’s Day? Anything else you want to share? Leave a comment! I love to read them.