Our family cookies


It is hard to imagine waking up and knowing that my mother and older sister were gone. Deceased. I would rather think about the things they do that I appreciate. This comes after I talked with them yesterday, Mother’s Day. They are planning to bake me some cookies. In all the places I have lived they have always sent me some cookies. When I was in the military, when I was in New York after I was released, when I was living in my home, when I had retreated to a vets center and just a few months ago for Christmas there are their cookies.

For me I most enjoy oatmeal raisin. This set of cookies will be different because Grace, my great niece, will be at her grandmother’s side saying “I can do it.” I picture them in my mind’s eye aided by the photos I have of them in my office. Though relationships and even marriage had faltered and crashed, family has remained.

In a way it’s a little childish, getting cookies for the summer. Here I am well into my 90s and these women and this young girl want to fuss over me. How ridiculous! Apart from the cookie story my mother told me that one of her sisters had wanted to raise me for her own. Horrors. She lived in Cleveland. I might have grown up cheering for Jim Brown and some other sports figures from that dreadful city. Goodness knows what kind of cook she might have been, too. She should have just gone to the Sears store when she had a chance.

Well, things turned out for the best. And we will see what happens will these 3 generation cookies.

 

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