Food Ornaments, 1440 Minutes in a Day, and Time.
Food ornaments, 1440 minutes in a day, and time.
In the pre-dawn morning hours, I start to write this food ornaments essay from home. It is quiet as I think of my almost 23 year old son still soundly asleep. Surely, I can't help but smile. He brings me joy.
Being a part of my son's life has been a great privilege for me. Of course, I remember the day he was born. I was full of hope and wonder as I stared through his beautiful eyes. I recall the first time he tried pureed plums and how he giggled as an infant as he sampled different food textures. Memories come to mind of picnicking with my 4 year old in the open trunk of my station wagon after we returned from the library with 30-40 books surrounding our sandwiches and apple slices. I remember our special bleacher where we sat weekly after his elementary school day enjoying snacks by the rhino pen at the zoo. Surely, the memory of waking up to a breakfast menu and morning meal made just for me by my growing child is something I will forever treasure. Am I am thankful? You bet!
Along with that, I smile to think of the taco bar nights we hosted when he invited 4 of his closest friends to eat and then pitch tents for backyard sleep overs. Listening to the dreams and stories of 12 year old boys as they plowed through piles of cheese, lettuce, chips, avocado, and taco meat were priceless times. Before he headed off to college, he suggested we stop to see the rhino one more time. Of course, I jumped at the idea. How could I not? These days, I hold close at heart our Monday night burger dates where I catch a continued glimpse of his life unfolding. We splurge with French fries, and our conversations continue. I want to order dessert so our time together lingers. Certainly, it is special. Just him and me, no cellphones out; there is nothing like it. Time.
I stop for gas in the dark before dawn on my way to work. Overhead from the speakers at the gas pump, I hear an unfamiliar song with the words from the perspective of a child “Stay at home. Don’t ya’ wanna' go fishin”? I tear up and give a sigh. But, I am full of gratitude, not sadness. Gratitude for all the times I said yes. For all the little moments and the priceless gifts of joyful memories that I received as a result of deciding to be fully present. My heart is happy, and I am peaceful. Indeed, these are moments I treasure now and always will. Am I perfect with sharing my time? Of course not, but I am thankfully aware of the moments I did it well.
In 2012, I awakened to the sound of my phone ringing in the dead of the night. I jumped out of bed and answered it. It was my 90 year old Grand Lady who lived next door. Her body suffering through the ravages of dementia. I heard her familiar and excited voice calling to invite me to breakfast.
Looking out into the dark night, I saw her little cottage lit up like Christmas. I whispered emphatically: “GG, I would love to come for breakfast, but it’s 3:30 in the morning.” She bluntly responded “I don’t care what time it is. I am hungry now.” No, it wasn’t convenient for me. Yes, I was clearly tired. Regardless, I got dressed and walked down the winding path to her home. I opened the door and saw her brilliant smile. Her face glowed at a table decorated with cups, saucers, coffee, and yes, donuts. I sat down, we talked about life, and we shared time. Sadly, a few months later, she was gone. Without a doubt, there is no question, I am glad I said “yes” to the donuts.
Now I am at work. I open one of the orders from the evening before, and I cannot believe my eyes. A brief smile. Then, the feeling of reassurance comes over me that I am on the right path.
Of all the things that could be in the drawer, I find two fishing ornaments with the name “Papa” waiting to ship out to Colorado. The song from the gas station replays in my mind. “Stay at home. Don’t ya’ wanna' go fishin”? I understand the importance. I celebrate the moments I got it right and remember that I am human for the times I didn't. Time. Indeed, it matters.
Finally, dear reader, our food ornaments are not just for Christmas. In fact, they are perfect gifts to give for many occasions. They can be personalized for free with names and dates, and sometimes a brief message. Many hold stories. And, some are simply reminders of what is truly important. They are the reminders of Grandmom's most delicious brownies and bowls of piping hot spaghetti shared around a Sunday evening table with friends or family.
Still, one of the things we can never get back is time. And, so I ask you. What is your favorite memory about a moment spent sharing food with a loved one? Do you like to fish? When was the last time you enjoyed a donut? How will you spend the next 1440 minutes?
Please, grab a cup of warm tea and offer your comments in the “Sitting and Sharing with SunnyGirl” section below:
In the pre-dawn morning hours, I start to write this food ornaments essay from home. It is quiet as I think of my almost 23 year old son still soundly asleep. Surely, I can't help but smile. He brings me joy.
Burgers and Fries Food Ornaments:
Being a part of my son's life has been a great privilege for me. Of course, I remember the day he was born. I was full of hope and wonder as I stared through his beautiful eyes. I recall the first time he tried pureed plums and how he giggled as an infant as he sampled different food textures. Memories come to mind of picnicking with my 4 year old in the open trunk of my station wagon after we returned from the library with 30-40 books surrounding our sandwiches and apple slices. I remember our special bleacher where we sat weekly after his elementary school day enjoying snacks by the rhino pen at the zoo. Surely, the memory of waking up to a breakfast menu and morning meal made just for me by my growing child is something I will forever treasure. Am I am thankful? You bet!
Along with that, I smile to think of the taco bar nights we hosted when he invited 4 of his closest friends to eat and then pitch tents for backyard sleep overs. Listening to the dreams and stories of 12 year old boys as they plowed through piles of cheese, lettuce, chips, avocado, and taco meat were priceless times. Before he headed off to college, he suggested we stop to see the rhino one more time. Of course, I jumped at the idea. How could I not? These days, I hold close at heart our Monday night burger dates where I catch a continued glimpse of his life unfolding. We splurge with French fries, and our conversations continue. I want to order dessert so our time together lingers. Certainly, it is special. Just him and me, no cellphones out; there is nothing like it. Time.
It is Time to Go to Work:
I stop for gas in the dark before dawn on my way to work. Overhead from the speakers at the gas pump, I hear an unfamiliar song with the words from the perspective of a child “Stay at home. Don’t ya’ wanna' go fishin”? I tear up and give a sigh. But, I am full of gratitude, not sadness. Gratitude for all the times I said yes. For all the little moments and the priceless gifts of joyful memories that I received as a result of deciding to be fully present. My heart is happy, and I am peaceful. Indeed, these are moments I treasure now and always will. Am I perfect with sharing my time? Of course not, but I am thankfully aware of the moments I did it well.
Coffee and Donuts Food Ornaments:
In 2012, I awakened to the sound of my phone ringing in the dead of the night. I jumped out of bed and answered it. It was my 90 year old Grand Lady who lived next door. Her body suffering through the ravages of dementia. I heard her familiar and excited voice calling to invite me to breakfast.
Looking out into the dark night, I saw her little cottage lit up like Christmas. I whispered emphatically: “GG, I would love to come for breakfast, but it’s 3:30 in the morning.” She bluntly responded “I don’t care what time it is. I am hungry now.” No, it wasn’t convenient for me. Yes, I was clearly tired. Regardless, I got dressed and walked down the winding path to her home. I opened the door and saw her brilliant smile. Her face glowed at a table decorated with cups, saucers, coffee, and yes, donuts. I sat down, we talked about life, and we shared time. Sadly, a few months later, she was gone. Without a doubt, there is no question, I am glad I said “yes” to the donuts.
Food Ornaments. 1440 Minutes in a Day, and Time:
Now I am at work. I open one of the orders from the evening before, and I cannot believe my eyes. A brief smile. Then, the feeling of reassurance comes over me that I am on the right path. Of all the things that could be in the drawer, I find two fishing ornaments with the name “Papa” waiting to ship out to Colorado. The song from the gas station replays in my mind. “Stay at home. Don’t ya’ wanna' go fishin”? I understand the importance. I celebrate the moments I got it right and remember that I am human for the times I didn't. Time. Indeed, it matters.
Finally, dear reader, our food ornaments are not just for Christmas. In fact, they are perfect gifts to give for many occasions. They can be personalized for free with names and dates, and sometimes a brief message. Many hold stories. And, some are simply reminders of what is truly important. They are the reminders of Grandmom's most delicious brownies and bowls of piping hot spaghetti shared around a Sunday evening table with friends or family.
Still, one of the things we can never get back is time. And, so I ask you. What is your favorite memory about a moment spent sharing food with a loved one? Do you like to fish? When was the last time you enjoyed a donut? How will you spend the next 1440 minutes?
Please, grab a cup of warm tea and offer your comments in the “Sitting and Sharing with SunnyGirl” section below: