On Aging: Cooking Sunday Dinner

I’m just getting a chance to sit down and write today but I didn’t want to not post something the second day NaBloPoMo 🙂

My mother has always hosted our little family Sunday dinners. She’s my mother (read- my caretaker, the cook, the consoler-shes the generation that does that stuff) and the grandmother to my children. Cooking is what she is supposed to do being the matriach. I’m still the child, well, at least her child but slowly things are changing.

I still feel like I’m twenty even as two of my children are heading towards thiry. I’m now the grandmother and the past few Sundays since my little apple scrapple was born I have found myself doing Sunday dinners. I barely recognize myself today as I woke up early to put two roast in the crock pot, cut up a whole bag of potatoes, and made homemade cupcakes and frosting. This is not me. I’m the one bringing ice to the family dinners and washing dishes after. I’m not the cook. But I am.

Things need to slow down. I may need to give these reigns back to my mom, I don’t even remember taking them. I don’t even remember slipping into the older generation. Aren’t 80 babies forever young, foooor-evvver young (Rod Stewert version in my head)?

Chavez-Quote1

demon

Awww I’m not that bad 🙂 Hope you all had a wonderful Sunday!

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