by hhomebrewer » Wed Dec 23, 2009 6:06 pm
I live in Nevada. I am home with my parents in Virginia for Christmas. My mom is 86; my dad will be 80 in February. Nothing anyone can buy at any store beats just being with the two people who have helped me through my life from Day One right up to even today. I have a sister who treats my mom like dirt. She even treats my dad poorly until she needs money. He once wrote a check to wipe out $54,000 in credit card debt she had. He sometimes pays her rent, almost always has to pay her quarterly taxes, fills her tank whenever she comes home (she lives 45 miles away), buys her groceries when she comes home and fixes whatever needs doing on her car. She never says thanks and always blows out the door right after dinner on Sundays when she does come home, which is maybe every six to eight weeks. She never helps to prepare the dinner or clean up afterward. She never calls to tell my mom she got home OK. I asked my dad a few years after that why he keeps helping her out financially when she treats my mom so badly. I will never forget what he said: "So I can say, as I lay on my deathbed and take my last breaths, that I did all I could." In that moment, I knew my parents would never, ever let me down. Just reading and remembering what my dad said in those several seconds kind of shakes me inside. I'm not a kid anymore-- far from it. To have such parents is surely a gift from God. They have pulled my chestnuts from the fire more times than I can even estimate. I know if I ever need help, they are there for me. That's a Christmas gift that never stops giving. My dad doesn't want us (four were born, one has left us) to give him anything short of respecting our mother. I do that as a matter of course. Even at my age, I do to the letter anything she asks and right away, too. It's an honor for me to help her after she helped me for so many years. I bought my mother a rice cooker because she likes rice and almost always scorches it on our electric stove. I also got her a four-cup Pyrex measuring cup because the little two-cup thing she has is a waste of time. She does a great deal of baking at Christmas time and needs a big measuring cup to measure out the flour and sugar she uses in baking her fabulous fruitcakes. I wish y'all could sample my mom's fruitcake. Ain't nothin' like it on this planet. It's dark brown and heavy and sticky and sweet beyond all understanding and loaded with nuts and rum and booze-soaked raisins and glazed cherries. She starts baking them in September and "doctoring" them with rum for three months. She makes about two dozen and sends them to friends and family. Each one can weigh up to four pounds or so. Probably 10,000 calories in one. Very addictive to eat, too. My last gift to her was a silicon kitchen spatula set. Just a few bucks, but she said she wanted more spatulas.
I ought to send the recipe to Fozzer. He likes to cook. The recipe is probably 100 years old. My mom has been making it since she was a kid in the 1930s. My grandmother made it when she was young, too, way back in the teens and 1920s...
I bought no presents for my selfish, self-absorbed sister or my brother who ain't gonna be home for Christmas anyway...
Merry Christmas, y'all!
I am homebrewer. I had 633 posts when for some unknown reason, my account disappeared...
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