Sparks Ignites

In 2001, my partner and his mother compiled a family cookbook comprised of recipes that were favorites and handed down from one generation to another. To keep the recipes together, instead of scattered in other cookbooks and personal recipe boxes – the book was created. I was asked to write the introduction to the book. I thought about traditions, special meals and how food plays a role in our celebrations. In the spirit of the holiday season and Thanksgiving, I am posting the introduction that I wrote thirteen years ago. Also, family members were asked to write a recollection of a certain meal or type of food that brought back special memories. I thought of my grandmother and how she introduced me to chicken livers at an early age. This story is also included. May the tastes and scents of your favorite foods contribute to your celebration and provide lasting memories - Happy Holidays! ____________________________________________________________________________ ...

“Thank God for Xanax and alcohol.” That's what I tell myself as soon as I feel the air turn crisp and the leaves on the trees start to change to their bright autumn colors. It signals the arrival of fall, and memories I struggle to forget. My nightmares cling to those memories. I have woken many nights in a cold sweat reliving the fall of '67 when I was in fifth grade. I always loved the change of seasons and the cooler days. I looked forward to wearing a cardigan sweater or a jacket on my way to school, in the morning, as I kicked through piles of leaves on the sidewalk. It was exciting seeing mums blooming in vibrant falls colors and pumpkins waiting to be carved into jack-o-lanterns.   It was the beginning of the school year, and time for me to start thinking about my Halloween costume. I lived within walking distance of my elementary school. I had several ways to get there, and my mom knew the time it took to walk each route. Every morning when I lef...

One year ago today my mom died and today the earth cries The rain falls from the sky as if it weeps in mourning The gray sky reflects my sadness The cold, damp air fills my body as the touch of death chills my soul There is a cycle of life as the leaves fall from the trees and winter approaches The rain soaks me and hides my tears as once again I bid her adieu The pain still feels fresh and I struggle The time passes and I stumble I look for answers, I search for solace, I grieve.