When I went to college, I admit that I really missed my mom.
Sure I had fun. All that *typical* college fun. Wink. Wink. But I missed home.
It’s not that I didn’t have lofty aspirations and huge dreams. I did. But once they dropped me off and left, I wasn’t as sure that I couldn’t do just as well from the comfort of my own home – complete with a basement bedroom with foil and felted animal print wallpaper and my private telephone line.
But drop me off they did. My new roommate, Melinda, welcomed me with open arms. Kind of. “I ain’t never seen no Jew before,” were her first words to me. Charmed, I’m sure. And funny how it didn’t surprise me that this lazy girl from a closed-minded family ended up going wild, skipping class, and dating a (too good for her) black guy just to “show mama that I can make my own decisions.”
I could make my own decisions, too, and I requested a transfer after first semester.
But I am totally off track here.
What I meant to write about was the sanctuary that I had on the weekends. Whenever I wanted, I could escape to a tropical wonderland with great food and a mother-like figure who would make me feel special.
It was the home of family friends. The mom was young and beautiful. The dad was in the construction vehicle business and I found it fascinating. He would talk to me about it and show me the equipment. They had young sons, who were fun.
I would go there on the weekends and have homemade dinners and my favorite activity ever (seriously, maybe ever!)….
I’d read and nap on the hammock in their backyard.
It was heaven.
I had so many wonderful times there. And I still bake the roll-ups that the grandmother used to make. She hand wrote the recipe for me and I still cherish it. (And let me tell you, this is one yummy dessert.)
The mom was there when I had a friend in need and didn’t know where to turn. She was there when I just needed a little family time.
And I just heard that the dad died after a long illness.
And it made me sad. Sad that I lost touch with the family for so many years. Sad that I probably (as a 20 year old might) didn’t show enough appreciation for what they did for me. Sad for their loss.
But on the other hand, it brought back some wonderful warm memories and took me back to a time that I don’t think about all that often.
All I know for sure is that I’m going to make some roll-ups this weekend.
Now, to find some damson preserves.