A Piece Of Life

One of my favorite childhood memories is watching my mom make apple pie in her bright yellow daffodil kitchen. I remember the smell of sliced apples covered in cinnamon and sugar, and even more vividly, I remember my mom taking the scraps of her homemade crust, dipping them in cinnamon sugar, rolling them up, and baking them for me and my sisters. Years later, when I was in college, my mom made me that same apple pie to take back to school after weekends at home. I remember the delicious smell comforting me for the whole three hours of the drive after leaving my house with my family and Steve standing in the driveway, waving goodbye.

Years later, I made apple pie for my family and used Mom's recipe, but by then, I had discovered the ease of a Pillsbury Pie Crust. My whole family loves that apple pie, except Rhett, who "doesn't eat cooked fruit." I lost track of how many times I made that apple pie, and before I knew it, I was teaching Peyton how to make her Grandma's Famous Apple Pie. Peyton has perfected it and sometimes uses a delicious crumble for the top crust. 

On Monday, Flynn decided she wanted to make a fall dessert. Peyton and she had listed several options, and Madison offered to help. They went over different options, many in the pumpkin category and a few in the apple category. I happened to mention that I had a Pillsbury Pie Crust in the fridge, and the decision was made! Suddenly, I was peeling farm-fresh apples, and then they got to work. I sat in the kitchen and watched as my oldest and my youngest, with texting support from Peyton, made their first apple pie. I realized at that moment how a simple but meaningful piece of life would continue as a link in the chain of our lives. 

One day long ago, my Grandma Mil made an apple pie. My mom watched, learned, and showed me. I made that delicious apple pie for years. Now, my girls are keepers of the piece of our lives and will hopefully continue to share it with those who come after them. Yesterday, I sat at the kitchen table with Madison and Flynn, enjoyed a piece of apple pie, and visited, just as I had when I sat at my mom's kitchen table and did the same thing with her and my Gram. Who knew all those years ago that one thought, one recipe, one pie would span generations and bring comfort to so many? Thank you, Gram. And Mom. And Peyton, Madison, and Flynn, for this delicious, familiar piece of life.

Have a lovely Wednesday, my friends. And prayers for all affected by these horrible hurricanes. Please be safe if you are near.

Billie Jo