"Cowardice asks the question...is it safe? Expediency asks the question...is it politic? Vanity asks the question...is it popular? But conscience asks the question...is it right? And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular but one must take it because it is right." ~Dr. Martin Luther King

Tuesday, 22 April 2014

This One Is Personal

The Easter Feast was at my house.  Lately the  gathering has been  at Heather's . Andrew and
Rhonda  hosted Christmas  last year. Everyone brings  a dish .

I  always roast the beef and make gravy . Crock pots are great for  keeping meat balls  and sauce
 simmering hot.

Between  you and me, it's not the same if  not at my house.

No small part of the  feast is  a house redolent with the aroma of beef roasting five hours and piquant sauce for the meat balls. It flows out the door  in welcome  and  puts a smile on everybody's face.

I can't help it. I  have this conviction  about details. I think it's a gene from my maternal grandmother.

My grandfather's porridge was  served with cold milk in a separate bowl so the porridge stayed hot
and defined in it's own dish.

Mashed potatoes were mounded, sides marked with fork tines.  A depression  on top, shaped  like a volcano was  filled with a  small pool of  melted ,creamy yellow butter,

Ayrshire potatoes with a floury texture are considered superior. Golden Wonders are the ultimate.

My grandmother made the simplest of homely tasks into artistry and precision.

Of all my children, Heather is most mindful.  Everyone else depends  on Heather to look out for Mum.

But her own house is full still.

Every one there is very comfortable with Mum looking after things and Dad being  best friend.

As Adam's life  grows more full and satisfactory, Heather's  life  is a continual round of fund-raisers, organizing,  and transportation to weekly games, events and tournaments.

The more normal Adam's life becomes, the more frenetic his mother's .

Yesterday was Heather's birthday. She was born  in the early hours of Easter Saturday morning.

Om his way home from work, Adam went  to  the new supermarket on Yonge Street in
Newmarket and bought pink carnations and a gift card for dinner  for two at Swiss Chalet.

He snuck out of the house in the morning without  wishing his mother Happy Birthday.

He had a  secret plan.

It was without a doubt, the loveliest of gifts,

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Lovely, Evelyn. thank you

Anonymous said...

We need more Adams in this world. How lucky you all are to have him.

Anonymous said...

Oh, my ! Real butter ! I remember that !

Marnie said...

Beautiful story about some wonderful people.