This week, there was a bit of a significant event. In many families, perhaps, such wouldn't even warrant a comment, because it is so common. In ours, though, it was pretty - notable, and awesome.
The thing is this: I love my mother very much, and she loves me as much, or probably more given I am of her. But our relationship is, to say the least, complicated.
But Monday, we were able to have an absolutely beautiful, loving and kind experience. Ok, first we moved stuff into my new place (Dad spearheaded this so don't think I am leaving him out) then we had to go to Bi-Lo and...but it's one part of the day, and a dinner, of which I write.
Chattanooga is a town filled with nearly all warm memories for my family.
When we lived here, for a bit when I was a little thing, we had our routines - much like those we would develop in Atlanta - about people, places and practices. And a particularly dear one we had was eating Sunday lunch after church every week at Mt. Vernon.
So when we trekked towards Lookout Mtn to get to the grocery etc (ok, living in Atlanta forever, I am used to calculating distance a bit differently than I have to now in Chattavegas - Lookout and Signal really aren't that far from downtown!), and passed Mt. Vernon, a bastion of my youth and our early family life - all it took was a glance between us and we knew where we'd be having dinner.
This is one of my favorite pictures of my mom and me, ever -
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| With my pretty mama, at the Amanas, 2002 (yeah, we favor) |
In this picture, we look happy and close. And we were. But belying the pretty (and similar, no?) smiles, there was a lot of tension. Not between us, at the time, but with our surroundings and others with us (this picture was taken the weekend my parents first met my former in-laws - enough said...). And the same things could apply to last Monday as well as to our recent collective family life.
It has been a rough - while - for my family. In all directions between family members, for various reasons on various levels, for . . .well, you get the idea.
But this week, God looked on us with favor, the stars aligned, the moods were right . . . whatever you call it, we had goodness. Moving someone's stuff from storage to a new place once again, driving back and forth a few hours, discussing jobs and rent and . . . all of that took a back seat to a mother-daughter moment that we don't come across often enough.
A meal, taken at a leisurely pace, and without worry of waistlines or calories, Important Topics of Discussion, checking cell phones, or any of the stuff that can easily overtake time together.
And, it was good. So very good. The company was mutually perfect - not a cross word, not a bit of tension (at least to my reticular activating system, as my daddy always calls it, and I hope not to hers), not anything but enjoying each other's company. This, my friends and readers, was a great blessing.
Oh, and the food? Well . . .
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| A Southern Chattanooga classic gets modern with a kale salad- yum!! |
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| Homemade pimento cheese (and I just realized - that's the same shirt my mom was wearing in that pic from 2002! Cute thin woman!) |
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| Meat and Three (er, two) - Ribeye, fried green 'maters and mac and cheese! |
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| STFD, y'all! Not a bite left of their famous Amaretto pie after we tackled it!! |
See - I was right, again (hee!). Sometimes, food is love. Or the communion you have over food is love. A place you walk into and immediately become the happy, delightful child you once were, and your mama becomes the wonderful, thoughtful young mother she once was - that is the Magic Kingdom, y'all.
My mother was my age now, the last time I remember being at Mt. Vernon. To say it was a treat to have come back there, together, under loving and happy manner - well, that just makes me think this:
“Ah, how quickly the hands on the clock circle toward the future we thought was far away! And how soon we become our mothers.” ― Peggy Toney Horton
And, more importantly, this: if I am becoming my mother, that is more than fine with me - it is a blessing.
Love, food, family. Blessings, all.
Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal
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