This past Thanksgiving holiday had me thinking a lot. I found myself thinking a lot about about my dad and several memories came rushing to me. Oh I had so many, but how to pick my favorite memory? Of course, I let the tears flow but afterwards, there was a smile on my face. Here is one such memory.
My parents had been divorced since I was five and the visitation schedule was every Sunday, my younger sister and I would visit with my dad for the day. Well one Sunday, when I was about 8 years old, I wanted to bake him something. My mother allowed me to bake but only with the help of my older sister who was about 13 at the time. My older sister helped me reach the ingredients in the upper cupboards and helped me get all of the equipment together, but she let me follow the recipe’s directions from my mom’s worn and used Betty Crocker cookbook that was given to her as a wedding gift (it was circa 1950’s, and man I wish we still had that cookbook!)
The recipe I decided to make was fruit turnovers. My sister explained to me how to measure the dry and liquid ingredients after I had asked what Tbsp and tsp meant. She didn’t tell me what to do, but guided me and allowed me to find my own way in getting the recipe done. I remember that we didn’t have the right filling that was called for in the recipe so we decided to use some fruit jelly we had in the fridge and topped it off with powdered sugar. After making a batch, we tasted it and both of us thought it was yummy. I had put four in a paper bag and took them out to my Dad who had already arrived to pick us up. I told him what I did, apologized for not being ready when he got there and gave him his treat while I went back into the house to change (I had flour all over my clothes.) By the time my younger sister and I came out to get into the car, my dad said that the turnovers were very good and smiled at me with powdered sugar on his cheek and shirt.
I write this memory with tears in my eyes and I know with Christmas coming, there are going to be more instances of this happening. I will shed more tears but I know they are happy tears because these are happy memories. And although I miss my dad, I love the memories I have of him. I am thankful for these memories and I hold then very close to my heart.
Do you remember your first attempt at baking? Was it a success? Let me know in the comment section. I would love to hear your memories!
