It is a given fact that the holidays bring back fond memories of the people who are no longer there to celebrate it with. At my family's Christmas dinner we all particularly miss our mom. We also miss our antics every time mom goes through her sacred ritual of cooking the Christmas meals (for they are many) and then later on having guests over during Christmas. I don't know if anyone else does it like my mom but she is Martha Stewart crossed with General Patton in the kitchen at Christmas and all the other family gatherings we've had.
For instance she and only she gets to pick the food for the feast. Oh sure we can all make our little requests of what we wish to see on the table, but ultimately, she does the menus (for they are many). Our neighbors and relatives always anticipate what we're serving. Mommy has a lot of protocols when it comes to her cooking, and she has trained us well on keeping to the program. To sum up what she demands from us, it is to get out of her way and let her do her thing, but always be available for when she needs assistance.
After our Christmas dinner the other day, me, my sisters and their children were gathered around in the living room just chatting and connecting to each other. Our conversation turned to how mom was during the holidays. We all agreed that she was the best cook we all knew. She only buys the best ingredients, did not scrimp on the mayonnaise in salads, her menudo did not have even a smidgen of pork fat, she hates extenders and any other cost-cutting schemes when it comes to the food that she cooks. Absolutely no one is allowed to hover on the table while she's cooking unless you want to hear an earful on right conduct. After she's done with the stuff that needs to be refrigerated, no one is allowed to open the fridge, even for drinking water.
Since we're a huge family of seven siblings, our mom has taught us the art of making ourselves scarce once the guests arrive. We either eat in the bedroom to lessen the traffic downstairs or we wait for the guests to finish eating before we can eat. In a huge household you learn to make room. I didn't mind, in fact I was quite content listening to the conversations through the stairs. At some point she'll call on us to introduce us to the guests, and to answer their questions politely. Who needs charm school when you've got a mother who teaches us how to conduct ourselves in front of other people (I guess the correct word is decorum, and I think its sorely missing in the youth of today).
How I miss my mom, the good food, the wisdom, the love only a mother could give.
email: buddygallagher@gmail.com
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