In 2006 my grandmother was ending her time on this side of eternity. I was home that morning and decided to make breakfast for the family. I always enjoyed cooking but my grandmother and I would often have little run-ins about how things worked in the kitchen. Somehow she was always afraid I was going to mess something up, like melting one of the pots or pans. Silly I know, but she worked hard to have nice things so we agreed if I bought my own cookware that I could cook whatever I wanted. Yes, this was the family I grew up with :)
In any event, that Memorial Day as she and I and a friend sat down to enjoy our bacon, eggs, juice and pancakes I believe her comment was something to the effect of "Let's see what you've managed to whip up this morning girl." She was so precious, frail and weak from months of chemo and radiation. She had a hard time just walking from her room less than 10 ft away to the dining room. I can still hear the whisper puffs of her oxygen machine like it really was yesterday. She sat there making conversation with us young ladies about life and enjoying a good meal. When she was done, she looked at me and said, "You did really good, these are the best pancakes I've had, so light and fluffy."
This event is so precious to me. It was one of the last full meals (she ate about half of it) that she was able to have because 13 days later she drew her last breath. I miss her so much, especially when I'm in the kitchen "experimenting" as she used to say and I want her input. It would be nice to have her here to taste the dishes I prepare or to talk to or pray with or I would love to encourage her with some of the poems I've written recently. However, she can see it from there in heaven. Well it has now become a custom for me to enjoy pancakes on Memorial Day and take a moment to be grateful for the woman whose prayers ushered me into the Kingdom. She was a warrior servant of a different kind and for that I am eternally grateful.
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