Relief

a feeling of cheerfulness or optimism that follows the removal of anxiety, pain, or distress: I breathed a 
sigh of relief

It's a good news/bad news dilemma. Easter is past, and I feel relief. 

Easter is a time of celebration and joy, but each year I'm hampered by the call to feel a certain way. An enforced happiness because I am a Christian. Springtime brings a new set of triggers for me. A rape that took place in the spring, many years ago. Reminders come. It is the nature of trauma for it to rear its head. I've written about it before, and each year it's a bit easier.

So it's a relief for me to have Easter behind me. I remind myself there is no biblical imperative to acknowledge Easter in a different or more extravagant way than any other Sunday. I focus on the love of God -- to send His son as a gift for me. 

And I'm reminded of one of my favorite homilies. It comes from the movie Chocolat, an unexpected source of pleasure and learning for me. 

Père Henri: I'm not sure what the theme of my homily today ought to be. Do I want to speak of the miracle of Our Lord's divine transformation? Not really, no. I don't want to talk about His divinity. I'd rather talk about His humanity. I mean, you know, how He lived His life, here on Earth. His kindness, His tolerance... Listen, here's what I think. I think that we can't go around... measuring our goodness by what we don't do. By what we deny ourselves, what we resist, and who we exclude. I think... we've got to measure goodness by what we embrace, what we create... and who we include.

linking up with Five Minute Friday

imperfect prose on thursday -- the flavors of my childhood

flavor |ˈflāvər|
noun
1 the distinctive quality of a particular food or drink as perceived by the taste buds and the sense of smell.

Memory is triggered by so many things -- sound, sight, smell, and flavor. How many of our memories are enhanced by flavor? My husband always photographs our meals on vacation, and it is remarkable how quickly the memories come back as we relive the food we consumed.

My childhood is alive with flavors. I grew up in the south where food ranks only second to religion. Sundays were defined by flannel boards in Sunday school; my daddy preaching from the pulpit; hymns, and maybe a baptism. But the highlight of the day was food. Were we eating at home? Was there a church covered dish dinner? Were we eating at a church member's home? Or maybe with my grandparents?

The flavors of my childhood are replete with fried chicken, biscuits, buttered corn, and green beans cooked with fatback until they are falling apart amid the swirls of fat. The salty crunch of the fried chicken leg as I bit into. The memory of it can still send me into paroxysms of ecstasy. Fluffy, lard based biscuits slathered with butter and homemade preserves. I could eat my weight in my great grandmother's biscuits.

On my mother's side of the family, it was always thin sliced ham that my great aunt had prepared. And Nana rolls. Tiny little yeast rolls ladened with butter. I think one holiday I ate 18 in one sitting!

Covered dish dinners were a pantheon of options! More fried chicken to be sure, but barbecue and macaroni and cheese (which is a vegetable in the South, thank you very much) as well. Desserts that would make your jaw hurt just to look at them. Chess pie! My favorite. The way the sugar and butter have blended together and been layered into that flaky, light pastry. It was a thing a of beauty as it dissolved into my mouth with hints of every flavor available on my tongue for just a moment before it slid down my throat leaving my mouth begging for more.

It's funny now, but we never went out to eat back then. I know some of it was money, but I think it was more about people and food. The two went hand in hand. I have often heard it said that sharing a meal is the most intimate of experiences. I think of the film Babette's Feast, and the scene in Chocolat where they all gather for Armande's birthday dinner. I think of Christ's last supper with His disciples and the memorial of communion we observe today. 

I had a therapist tell me once that he had clients who could only talk to him if they all ate together. What is it about eating and food and flavor that ties us together?

What I wouldn't give to taste a Nana roll again.

linking up with imperfect prose on thursday

(this post was originally posted on 6/29/12)

The Flavors of My Childhood

flavor |ˈflāvər|
noun
1 the distinctive quality of a particular food or drink as perceived by the taste buds and the sense of smell.

Memory is triggered by so many things -- sound, sight, smell, and flavor. How many of our memories are enhanced by flavor? My husband always photographs our meals on vacation, and it is remarkable how quickly the memories come back as we relive the food we consumed.

My childhood is alive with flavors. I grew up in the south where food ranks only second to religion. Sundays were defined by flannel boards in Sunday school; my daddy preaching from the pulpit; hymns, and maybe a baptism. But the highlight of the day was food. Were we eating at home? Was there a church covered dish dinner? Were we eating at a church member's home? Or maybe with my grandparents?

The flavors of my childhood are replete with fried chicken, biscuits, buttered corn, and green beans cooked with fatback until they are falling apart amid the swirls of fat. The salty crunch of the fried chicken leg as I bit into. The memory of it can still send me into paroxysms of ecstasy. Fluffy, lard based biscuits slathered with butter and homemade preserves. I could eat my weight in my great grandmother's biscuits.

On my mother's side of the family, it was always thin sliced ham that my great aunt had prepared. And Nana rolls. Tiny little yeast rolls ladened with butter. I think one holiday I ate 18 in one sitting!

Covered dish dinners were a pantheon of options! More fried chicken to be sure, but barbecue and macaroni and cheese (which is a vegetable in the South, thank you very much) as well. Desserts that would make your jaw hurt just to look at them. Chess pie! My favorite. The way the sugar and butter have blended together and been layered into that flaky, light pastry. It was a thing a of beauty as it dissolved into my mouth with hints of every flavor available on my tongue for just a moment before it slid down my throat leaving my mouth begging for more.

It's funny now, but we never went out to eat back then. I know some of it was money, but I think it was more about people and food. The two went hand in hand. I have often heard it said that sharing a meal is the most intimate of experiences. I think of the film Babette's Feast, and the scene in Chocolat where they all gather for Armande's birthday dinner. I think of Christ's last supper with His disciples and the memorial of communion we observe today. 

I had a therapist tell me once that he had clients who could only talk to him if they all ate together. What is it about eating and food and flavor that ties us together?

What I wouldn't give to taste a Nana roll again.

******

More stops on The She Writes Southern Writers 4^th of July Countdown Blog Tour:

Tour Date: Sat. June 30

Blog Name: Delani Bartlette’s Travel Blog

Blog Owner: Delani Bartlette

Guest Blogger: Stacy Allen

Title: "Changing The Past, Inventing The Future"

URL: http://matadornetwork.com/community/delanib

Tour Date: Sat. June 30

Blog Name: Emily Kennedy, Author

Blog Owner: Emily Kennedy

Title: "Southern Gentlemen"

URL:  http://emilykennedyauthor.com

Tour Date: Sun. July 1

Blog Name: Ryder Islington, Author

Blog Owner: Ryder Islington

Guest Blogger: Deidre Ann Banville

Title: "New Orleans Caulbearers"

URL: http://ryderislington.wordpress.com

Tour Date: Sun. July 1

Blog Name: A Penny and Change

Blog Owner: Penny Leisch

Guest Blogger: Trisha Faye

Title: "Change...as the moon goes on shining"

URL: http://apennyandchange.pennyleisch.com/blog

Tour Date: Mon. July 2

Blog Name: Zetta's House of Random Thoughts

Blog Owner: Zetta Brown

Title: "Texas Tornadoes and Other Memories"

URL: http://zettashouse.wordpress.com

Tour Date: Mon. July 2

Blog Name: Reflections of a Mississippi Magnolia

Blog Owner: Patricia Dorsey

Title: "A (Southern) Life in Poems"

URL:  http://patricianeelydorsey.blogspot.com/

Tour Date: Tue. July 3

Blog Name: A Penny's Worth

Blog Owner: Penny Leisch

Guest Blogger: NancyKay Sullivan Wessman

Title: "Books & Business & Reality: No magic bullet"

URL: http://pennyleisch.com/wordpress

Tour Date: Tue. July 3

Blog Name: The Novelette

Blog Owner: Laura Gschwandtner

Title: "Southern Living with True Grit"

URL: http://thenovelette.com/blog

Thankful Thursday #17

This morning I am reminded of a quote from the movie Chocolat.

Do I want to speak of the miracle... 

of our Lord's divine transformation? 

Not really, no. 

I don't want to talk about His divinity. 

I'd rather talk about His humanity. 

Because that's how I'm feeling this morning. I want to have something remarkable to share . . . something that speaks of the wonder and awe of God and His relationship with us. But I just don't have it this morning.

What I do have are the recurring questions about relationships and what God's will is regarding one in particular.

I have broken off communication with some family members. Since doing that, I have felt more peace in many ways, but I find myself questioning whether or not my peace/happiness is a fair trade-off for whatever pain/anger they may be feeling. 

So once more today, I find myself grateful for the lessons I have learned about the compassion and humanity of our Father. He understands my feelings, of that I am sure. I am reminded that He is my Father to whom I may bring every problem, struggle, and joy. He never tires of listening to me, and His deepest desire is what is best for me. 

Questions may linger. Adjustments may need to be made. People are changelings, but God is constant. And I am so grateful for that today.

link up at Grace Alone

Red Writing Hood -- Flavor

flavor |ˈflāvər|
noun
1 the distinctive quality of a particular food or drink as perceived by the taste buds and the sense of smell.

Memory is triggered by so many things -- sound, sight, smell, and flavor. How many of our memories are enhanced by flavor? My husband always photographs our meals on vacation, and it is remarkable how quickly the memories come back as we relive the food we consumed.

My childhood is alive with flavors. I grew up in the south where food ranks only second to religion. Sundays were defined by flannel boards in Sunday school; my daddy preaching from the pulpit; hymns, and maybe a baptism. But the highlight of the day was food. Were we eating at home? Was there a church covered dish dinner? Were we eating at a church member's home? Or maybe with my grandparents?

The flavors of my childhood are replete with fried chicken, biscuits, buttered corn, and green beans cooked with fatback until they are falling apart amid the swirls of fat. The salty crunch of the fried chicken leg as I bit into. The memory of it can still send me into paroxysms of ecstasy. Fluffy, lard based biscuits slathered with butter and homemade preserves. I could eat my weight in my great grandmother's biscuits.

On my mother's side of the family, it was always thin sliced ham that my great aunt had prepared. And Nana rolls. Tiny little yeast rolls ladened with butter. I think one holiday I ate 18 in one sitting!

Covered dish dinners were a pantheon of options! More fried chicken to be sure, but barbecue and macaroni and cheese (which is a vegetable in the south, thank you very much) as well. Desserts that would make your jaw hurt just to look at them. Chess pie! My favorite. The way the sugar and butter have blended together and been layered into that flaky, light pastry. It was a thing a of beauty as it dissolved into my mouth with hints of every flavor available on my tongue for just a moment before it slid down my throat leaving my mouth begging for more.

It's funny now, but we never went out to eat back then. I know some of it was money, but I think it was more about people and food. The two went hand in hand. I have often heard it said that sharing a meal is the most intimate of experiences. I think of the film Babette's Feast, and the scene in Chocolat where they all gather for Armande's birthday dinner. I think of Christ's last supper with His disciples and the memorial of communion we observe today. 

I had a therapist tell me once that he had clients who could only talk to him if they all ate together. What is it about eating and food and flavor that ties us together?

What I wouldn't give to taste a Nana roll again.

link up at Write on Edge and imperfect prose on Thursdays