My dad pecked out weekly letters to my mom's parents and unmarried sisters, using carbon paper, every Sunday afternoon when I was growing up, a tradition he did until there was no longer anyone to send the letters to. He was an incredible amateur writer. I was astonished at the few mistakes he made. When I used the same typewriter for high school research papers, with footnotes, I was terribly error ridden. I loved this story about your mom, and when we are young, we so fail to appreciate them because of our own strong wills. Thanks for sharing and stirring up my own memories. BTW: We have carbon copies of all of those letters. It's a treasure.
I love this tribute to your mom. From the typewriter to the moving away to the alcohol fueled years to the unwavering support of your mom, and her style. All reminds me of my mom. I took her old green typewriter to college and thought I threw it away. Broke my heart. I found it two years ago when I was cleaning the garage after my dad passed.
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story. Anything that reminds me of my mom is a gift of remembrance.
I don’t cry easily, but this brought tears. I was very close to my mom growing up, but it was my grandmother, my mom’s mother, I adored. When I stayed with her, my days were filled with whatever I wanted to do - go to the park, have a picnic under the cherry tree in the backyard, draw and paint. Eventually, she got Alzheimer’s, and I lived out of state, so I didn’t visit often. My heart was broken, I know that now. My mother, who’s almost ninety, has advanced Alzheimer’s and doesn’t recognize me. But next time I visit, I think I’ll bring everything for a proper tea party and treasure the time we have together. Thank you for this! ❤️
The ritual of a tea party, the soothing tastes, familiar tea cups and settings (my mum loved holding the old tea cozy she sewed for her teapot), and classical music in the background (or whatever her favorite kind)—all of these sensory details create a comforting experience. Your mother recognizes your love. Hold on to that.
This is so beautiful. Love pours out between every typed word, now most likely done on an electric computer, with the same themes of care, food, writing and creativity weaving throughout. What a tribute to a strong and devoted woman -- her spirit still lives on.
Ahh, I love this so much! It says so much, a whole life in a short space. Amazing to live off of that typewriter! To make a life of words and recipes, and love! What a tribute!
This is lovely. I smell the molasses cookies baking, I hear the typewriter clacking. Your mother sounds so very alive, like someone I'd like to spend a lot of time with. Thank you for writing her spirit into our day!
I love this story, especially the lovely line, "I moved back to the farmhouse to care for her—an unexpected and initially daunting chance, at age 50, to experience motherhood for the first time myself."
Her spirit lives on every time I type or bake!
My dad pecked out weekly letters to my mom's parents and unmarried sisters, using carbon paper, every Sunday afternoon when I was growing up, a tradition he did until there was no longer anyone to send the letters to. He was an incredible amateur writer. I was astonished at the few mistakes he made. When I used the same typewriter for high school research papers, with footnotes, I was terribly error ridden. I loved this story about your mom, and when we are young, we so fail to appreciate them because of our own strong wills. Thanks for sharing and stirring up my own memories. BTW: We have carbon copies of all of those letters. It's a treasure.
until there was no longer anyone to send the letters to 😢
Carbon paper! That takes me back. This is a lovely memory. So happy to have inspired you to share with us.
WOW! Loved reading about your Mom and your journey back to knowing and loving her as she was.
💓💓💓
“.. building her life one typed-up recipe at a time” A beautiful way to live. Thank you for sharing your lovely mother with us.
I’m so happy you enjoyed it, Chris!
❤️❤️❤️
I love this tribute to your mom. From the typewriter to the moving away to the alcohol fueled years to the unwavering support of your mom, and her style. All reminds me of my mom. I took her old green typewriter to college and thought I threw it away. Broke my heart. I found it two years ago when I was cleaning the garage after my dad passed.
Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful story. Anything that reminds me of my mom is a gift of remembrance.
I’m so happy you found that typewriter!
That’s beautiful 💓
I don’t cry easily, but this brought tears. I was very close to my mom growing up, but it was my grandmother, my mom’s mother, I adored. When I stayed with her, my days were filled with whatever I wanted to do - go to the park, have a picnic under the cherry tree in the backyard, draw and paint. Eventually, she got Alzheimer’s, and I lived out of state, so I didn’t visit often. My heart was broken, I know that now. My mother, who’s almost ninety, has advanced Alzheimer’s and doesn’t recognize me. But next time I visit, I think I’ll bring everything for a proper tea party and treasure the time we have together. Thank you for this! ❤️
The ritual of a tea party, the soothing tastes, familiar tea cups and settings (my mum loved holding the old tea cozy she sewed for her teapot), and classical music in the background (or whatever her favorite kind)—all of these sensory details create a comforting experience. Your mother recognizes your love. Hold on to that.
Hugs to you both.
What a beautiful idea 💓🫖 💓☕️
This is so beautiful. Love pours out between every typed word, now most likely done on an electric computer, with the same themes of care, food, writing and creativity weaving throughout. What a tribute to a strong and devoted woman -- her spirit still lives on.
thank you for reading 💓
Ahh, I love this so much! It says so much, a whole life in a short space. Amazing to live off of that typewriter! To make a life of words and recipes, and love! What a tribute!
Thanks so much, Elizabeth! Glad you liked it.
yes! and I love how much you love it! 💓
This story is perfection. Thank you.
❤️❤️❤️
Full circle...what a loving testament to the power of forgiveness. By example, your mother taught you well. Beautiful story.
You are absolutely right. Well said!
❤️❤️❤️
This is lovely. I smell the molasses cookies baking, I hear the typewriter clacking. Your mother sounds so very alive, like someone I'd like to spend a lot of time with. Thank you for writing her spirit into our day!
i wish her newsletter came to me in the mail every month ❤️
I can arrange that. Still have a bunch left.
She could definitely entertain you, Katie. And those cookies are out of this world!
Why am I sobbing😭 Beautiful writing.
thank you for reading 💓
Thank you for your kind words.
The last line broke me. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful reflection of your relationship with your one-of-a-kind mom.
💓💓💓
She certainly was a unique woman. Thanks for reading!
This is so moving. My mother and I are estranged, and I can only hope to write something half as loving about her one day.
Thank you for your sweet words, Jude, and for subscribing. Sending you a hug.
I love this and wish I could steal the name Cook and Tell! Wonderful telling of food and love. Brava!
Thank you, Char! I’m still Cooking & Telling my way through life.
I love this story, especially the lovely line, "I moved back to the farmhouse to care for her—an unexpected and initially daunting chance, at age 50, to experience motherhood for the first time myself."