I can’t remember a specific time or a particular meal that is highly meaningful from my childhood. But I do remember the lamb cakes my grandmother used to make for easter or for my birthday and how special they were to me. Grammy would spend all of her time making sure that my cake was personalized. The cake would be perfectly frosted and have jelly beans or other materials as candy.

I remember the cookies that Grammy would have in a cake tin, ready to go, lying around the kitchen. We could always help ourselves. I remember how I would lie to my parents about how many cookies I had consumed. I would always keep it to myself.

I don’t think it’s the food you consume with your family that matters. I think it’s the feelings they inspire. The goodness they make you feel in every being of your body that really matters. Sure, you remember the negative emotions sometimes, but if family were always so bad, then you wouldn’t always carry them with you.

I carry them in my heart forever and always. I might not always be great at expressing it, but they are really important to me. Each person in my family has a deep place in my heart. I’d love to be able to transport myself back into my childhood and capture the happiness I felt while surrounded by my family members: both the living and the ones who have passed on. I would love to collect the feelings they inspired, the moments that we shared together, and the stories that they once told. I’d love to be able to share with others the stories that were told to me as a child so that I can keep them alive forever.


One thought on “happy.

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