By Morgan Davis ι Feb. 12, 2014
Losing someone close to you … is the pits. We lost a very dear grandmother last month and have been “in a funk” since then. We are emotionally and physically tired. We tend to walk on eggshells for fear of saying something that will evoke tears. One memory I cannot stop thinking about, though, is just sweet.
My husband’s birthday pie. Let’s start from the beginning. My hubby’s special day is a mere two days after Christmas. One year, long ago, Grandma Davis made a strawberry pie for Christmas and (from what I hear) it. was. bad. It’s super simple to make and just wasn’t anyone’s cup of tea. Except for Dru. He devoured the entire pie. By himself.
So, every year after, Grandma made the pie just for Dru on his birthday. One rule: he gets the whole thing. It brings him such joy to sit down with just the pie and a fork. It brings memories of his grandmother and that inaugural year when he first tasted its fluffy goodness.
When Dru and I were engaged, his thoughtful sister threw me a Pampered Chef bridal shower. It was the best thing ever for many reasons, but one very special reason revolved around the fact that each guest was to bring her favorite recipe to begin a collection for my newlywed kitchen.
Grandma Davis gave me THE recipe. When I saw it in the stack of recipes, my eyes welled up with tears. What a gracious woman. This had been her special tradition with just Dru for many years. She was handing it down, in her own words and handwriting.
I couldn’t hardly think of any words to say, but I mumbled something about her making the pie for him. She — in true Beth fashion — said, “Oh no. I’ll make it this year and then it’s ALL YOURS. I’m done!” I think she was more excited than I was.
I have continued to make the pie for his special day every year so far. He says I’m getting better. 2013 tasted the most like Grandma’s. Well, it’s a good thing I’ve mastered the birthday pie. Now that Grandma is gone, I have one of the most treasured memories I could have received. I will gladly honor her by making the pie every year, following her handwritten recipe, which makes me chuckle at her silly comments.
May you always find joy in simple memories of those you have lost. It is through these memories that they live on.