Sweet and Random Memories

Do you ever just have random memories pop into your head? This morning, I was reading a book in which the heroine put a frozen pizza in the oven. I looked up and I was in my mother's kitchen!

You need to understand, this particular kitchen is the only one in which I actually remember my mother. This kitchen is in the house in which I grew up. This kitchen was the setting for countless meals, including large family gatherings after my three siblings and I were married and had children. The various tables in that kitchen served as a desk for homework, a sewing table, a drafting table, an artist's easel, a writer's desk, a baker's board -- those tables had deer, quail, dove and pheasant too numerous to count butchered on them. That kitchen is firmly embedded in my heart and soul, and is a part of who I am today. My children have fond memories of that kitchen, as well.

Even my husband, who loved my parents dearly, has so many memories of meals shared in that kitchen. When we went to Mom and Dad's house, Charles often spent time in there visiting with Mom. It wasn't just about the biscuits and gravy or the enchiladas or the snacks Mom always had on hand; it was about Mom's gentle spirit.

So the frozen pizza. Why did it suddenly transport me through time and space? Because for some reason, it made me think of going home from school for lunch. Some of you are now asking, "What is she talking about?" Others of you are nodding your head, saying, "I remember that!" Yes, once upon a time, before schools were terrified of being sued, children were allowed to simply leave school, walk home, eat lunch and return. We lived about two blocks from school, so we could easily make the trip, eat lunch and get back to school in plenty of time (although, in retrospect, I reckon I was late getting back on more than one occasion...I was something of a dawdler).

So even though I've eaten a bajillion or so frozen pizzas since my childhood, just reading that phrase -- "slid the pizza into the oven" -- sent me back to that wonderful place. I lost my Dad a little over three years ago, and Mom a little over two years ago. I know they are both in a better place, as we who are left behind say. I know they are happy and pain-free, sitting at the feet of Jesus. But the selfish child in me still misses them both terribly. So if a phrase about a frozen pizza can put me in that wonderful place in my memory, I'll take it.

What's your happy place from your childhood? I hope it's as easy to recall with the smell of a cookie, or the thought of a pizza.