It's 9AM
I got a strong craving last night.
Like an addict.
For Mamaw’s Banana Bread.
We almost always had a loaf or two in the freezer.
Wrapped in plastic wrap and then aluminum foil.
Put it in the fridge to thaw.
Cut into thick slices and toast to warm, then slather with butter.
Not Margarine.
That’s just cooking oil whipped with flavor and hydrogenated.
Real butter.
She would make the loaves by the dozen and give them away to her kid’s and grandkids, plus keep a bunch for herself and Papaw.
I wanted some banana bread last night, but not just any.
Not some I could make, not store bought, or even made by someone else’s sweet grandma.
Which I’m sure is delicious.
No, I wanted Mamaw’s Banana Bread and got a lump in my throat at a thought.
I’ll never ever taste it again.
All I have is the memory of it.
And though I’ve learned dozens of her recipes, I’ll never make it just like her.
Gas stove in a home built by Papaw.
Most ingredients from Wal-Mart, back before they changed a lot of raw materials in the ingredients.
No Safeway butter, no pan from the 30’s, so well used and seasoned from a couple thousand trips into the hot oven.
And no love.
There’s just something a little different about that very special ingredient.
Love.
You can tell when it’s been added.
A special sauce that makes anything taste just a little different.
Better.
It makes a story a little more interesting, a song just a little easier on the ear.
Love doesn’t just make the world go round, it makes the world better.
Probably why the summer of free love was so popular.
Wait, that’s a different kind o’ love, but the idea is still the same.
If you love people, then the world is mostly sunshine and roses.
If you hate people, the world is full of danger and trouble.
Two extremes of a really long spectrum.
Mamaw’s love made the very best banana bread in the world.
Her love made skinned knees stop hurting and although it couldn’t mend a broken heart a time or two, her fried SPAM sandwiches with mustard and Kraft cheese slices eased an ache.
At least for a moment.
Except for this one.
The ache of knowing there are no more loaves and no more sandwiches and no more treats for holidays and Sundays and no reason to be special days.
Not quite a hole in the heart, or even break down in the shower kind of feeling.
Just a sigh and some sadness and a world not quite as good as it once was.
A feeling I know will grow with days, as icons slip away, and this past week was especially poignant.
So what’s the solution?
Beer.
And if liquid manna isn’t your style, then make Sun Tea or Lemonade or two fingers of Jack or Jim.
Let’s raise our glasses in a toast to Mamaws gone, and memories of Margaritas and right prices and walking in the sun while dream weaving.
Let’s look for love in the world, and find some love to share, and share some love of our own today.
I appreciate you.
Speaking of love, I’ve got a long series called BATTLEFILED Z.
It is about a Dad hunting for his lost children in a world where zombie’s aren’t the worst thing to survive.
Readers have said, “it’s not really about zombies” and truer words have not been spoken.
Anyway, you can read the first three chapters free to see if it’s your style.
I bet you can feel the love in it.
If you want the rest, grab the Complete Boxset or books 1, 2 and 3 to see how it goes.
The next book is out this month.
If you want to listen to it, I put it up on Youtube, so click play.
PLUS
September Thriller & Suspense Giveaway
AND
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Which ones are you missing?
The Battlefield Z Series
6. Bluegrass Zombie
9. Everglades Zombie
10. Flyover Zombie
11. Headshots
12. Overland Zombie
13. Lone Star Zombie
14. Cowboy Zombie
15. Gone Dark
16. Silent Run
17. No Entry
18. Restricted
19. Desolation
20. Exposed
21. Shelter in Place
22. Ashes - a Post Apocalyptic story
23. Run - a Battlefield Z story
24. Hide - a Battlefield Z story
BOXSET
I was transported back to times with my grand mother reading your post this morning. (We called her Grand-mere as she was French Canadian). She made several things that I have longed for may times and can never get again. One of the things she made she called green tomato ketchup. It was really more like a chow chow, but, not exactly. I have never been able to find anything like it anywhere and of course, no one has the recipe she used. She had no written guides, everything was from memory, touch, and, feel. Raising a glass to your Mamaw and my Grand-mere!