A thought in time

Most days when I walk into my house I smell the sweet sent of vanilla and powdered sugar. Ingredients all over the kitchen. Dishes waiting to be washed, sitting in the sink. Powdered sugar on the counter as kneed’s the fondant. Powder sugar falls off the counter onto the floor and gets on her toes. Mixer in the back of her on high power. The oven light is on and you can see the cakes rising above the edges of the pan. Just then the timer goes off and so does mom. She runs around looking for her oven mitts not even bothering to turn the timer off. As she lifts up her recipe binder there they are. One by one she slides them on. As she opens the oven door she backs away and yells "I do that every time!". As she sits them on the oven top she pushes the tooth pick into the middle to make sure it is completely baked. Just then the timer on the microwave goes off and she jumps. Taking off her mit’s and setting them on top of her recipe binder she jets to the mixing bowls and turns them off. Finally I warn her I am home scaring her. She almost drops the spatula. 

I ask her about what kind of cake she is making but she is so focused and concentrating on her icing she doesn't hear me.

Finally when she has nothing to do she says "what did you say." 

I repeat my self and she replies with " White wedding cake with vanilla buttercream." 

She knows that's my favorite. I start to wonder about how this all started started and asked. " We always Celebrate birthdays and we would always order cakes from the store and they were terrible. We were tired of being disappointed. So I first started making cakes when you were 8. I toke Wilton classes at Michaels craft store in Jacksonville with my aunt Jamie. " I see this look on her face like she I'd happy that I am bringing this all ups me continue with " Is that what you think about when you make cakes?" She smiles and tells me "Ya. It also reminds me of your fathers aunt cookie. She made our wedding cake. Every time I make cakes she runs through my mind. It also makes me remember the good times I had delivering cakes. The tears and joy. It mostly reminds me of you girls and how you always change your miss during the process of me making your cakes"

Every time I see my mom making a cake I remember back to the last store bought cake I ever had. My mom was so mad and I was just happy there was cake. I am so glad to know so much about the background to what my mom does everyday. This means a lot to me. Now I will always understand that cakes to us aren't just what my mom does they mean much more than that to us.