over the river and through the woods

The girls and I went to my Grandmother's house this past weekend to pick up some of Mother's furniture and stuff. It was not the most relaxing trip, as my grandmother thinks children should been seen and not heard. However, I brought homemade chicken pot pie and we shared supper with my 97 year old Uncle Henry, the most cheerful soul I have met.

Saturday morning I went through many pictures and handwritten cookbooks and cried while reading Mother's recipes for Grandma's Orange Cookies in her elegant script. A mystery that I will pursue on the internet was the finding of a fraternity pin I never knew she had. I too dated a Pi Lambda Phi in college, but was never pinned, an old Southern tradition symbolizing a pre-engagement commitment.

The highlight of the trip for me was going to Mass at St. Benedict's and immersing myself in the worship of God. The Gregorian chant made my heart soar and the Host was like nectar on my tongue. Afterwards there was much hugging and greetings from old friends and I almost wished we hadn't left. We needed to break away from the area, because if we had stayed much longer I don't think I could have left even to go to Maine. Tim often shared stories of co-workers who never got to pursue their dreams of living in the country because their wives insisted on staying where the kids were enrolled in school and because of the shopping opportunities. I do miss our parish and wish we could have found its equivalent in North Carolina. Overall the trip cemented my desire and hope that when I become a grandmother that I will only be a blessing to my children.