Over last winter break, I spent some time going through our family recipes. I had just gotten a recipe book for Christmas, and wanted to make sure I got all our family's classics down -- the crumb cake we eat every Christmas, the cold Mexican dip that made me and Emily super popular with all the other camp counselors, and others that have led to many special memories.
My mom was so present in the overflowing box of recipes -- her handwriting on the recipe cards and the recipes she copied from friends, saved from newspapers or cream cheese packages, hoping to make someday -- did we ever make them?
My mom who had purchased a million vegetarian cookbooks and saved a million veggie lasagna and veggie chilli and everything-veggie-recipes to try when I up and decided as a freshman in high school that I wasn't going to eat meat any more. My mom who patiently tried recipe after recipe that I turned down because I hadn't learned to like beans yet and because I am famously bad at trying new foods.
My mom who likes mushrooms and eggplant and has all but given up mushrooms and eggplant because she lives in a family that doesn't really like them.
I love my mom for these reasons and so many more. She is the most giving, self-sacrificing, amazing woman I know, and I'm so lucky to be her daughter.
Happy birthday, Mom. I hope it's wonderful!