Eggs... And the sweetest memories...

I know you must be wondering why in the world this post is titled "eggs." What significance are eggs to memories?

Throughout my childhood, I have been so blessed to have such a close, sweet family. I grew up next door to one set of my grandparents and each Sunday, we drove to Adamsville, AL to be with the others. There are small, quite random things I do, or see, or smell throughout my days or some point in my week that brings the sweetest memories to my mind and warms my heart.

Mitch is a huge breakfast eater, and I usually try to wake up and cook so he has something yummy to wake up to. When I was growing up, either my mom or dad made a huge breakfast, so in a way, I feel like I am carrying over a tradition with my little family. I have to say, my dad was the bacon and egg man. Now, when I cook those two things, I try to get them as close to his as possible. Sometimes I am more successful than others. On the other hand, no matter what I try to mimic of my moms, it turns into an epic fail. I just can't master her cooking!

So, in the midst of cooking breakfast, as I stuck my thumb through the egg, I couldn't help but to laugh and know that my Big Mama was right there with me. You see, when she baked a cake for her church, she would often call and see if I wanted to come help. Bless her heart, she ended up digging more shells out and cleaning up my mess. None the less, she would just smile and say, "you are doing so good, Susie." After the cake was in the oven, she would let me climb on the counter top and I scrambled myself six, yes six, eggs and had a cup of coffee to go with it!

My mom taught me when I was younger than my name was "Susannah." Not Susan, or Sue, but Susannah. I have never really let anyone call me anything otherwise without correcting them. But no one said my name like my PawPaw. He always called me Susie-annah. And that was perfectly fine with me! Now, I have a husband that calls me Sus; I don't correct him either!

This brings me to my sweet Paw, which I may or may not get through the rest of this without streaming tears. Each time Crue climbs into my lap, I see my Paw's sweet face. He would rub his whiskers on my cheek and call me "his little mutnin." Without fail, I would end up making him sing "There's A Hole In The Bottom Of The Sea." I have to admit, I haven't been able to get through it with Crue yet, but I will. Every time I have a temper flare,
I know it ultimately is a little bit of him in me. It's the Bills in me!

I think I get my sweetness from my Gran. While she is the only one of my grand parents still living, I try to learn from her each and every day. I will never be able to create her Sunday meals. But, I know my Gran is the glue to our family. I have learned that no matter how big or how small your family may be, to keep them together, and keep that bond strong. My Gran always tries to find the good in people and the good in the worst citations. She give endlessly and loves completely.

So, my point is this. I hope I can give Crue small, random memories of his own so that no matter what he is doing, I will always be there.

What are your "eggs?"




- Susannah