This morning I had bacon and cornbread for breakfast, a combination I’ve never tried before and will probably not try again. Not because I didn’t enjoy it. I did. But I think the reason I enjoyed the taste sensation this morning is because of the events of yesterday and this morning. Yesterday after church, my children and grandchildren all convened at my sister’s house where we spent several hours savoring great food and each other’s fellowship. So many things went on that space and time prevent me from relating everything (besides, would you really want to read it?), so I’m going to focus on the main thoughts and feelings that I have today, the ones that led to cornbread and bacon.

Yesterday after eating a traditional Easter lunch, I went upstairs with my sister, her daughter, my daughters, and my little grandson Colton to watch family videos about 20 years old. Colton slept through most of it, but the gals surrounding him LOVED the video that had been compiled by my father many years ago. Much of the action took place at 511, the house number of my parents’ former residence, and there seemed to be tons of love, laughter, and conviviality. There was also lots of footage taken at celebratory events like Easter, Christmas, and birthdays.

At some point during the viewing, I think all of us realized that what we’d been experiencing at my sister’s house all afternoon had recaptured much of the same feelings we felt back then. At various points during the viewing, different family members wandered in and out to watch a few minutes before going back downstairs for a snack, an update on the Master’s, or maybe  a ride on Allen’s Polaris. It was huge fun to see the young adults of today as infants, toddlers, children, and teenagers on the video. We laughed at our fashion statements of former years and savored hearing the voices of our parents.

All of this was pretty awesome, but it took a call to Carrie this morning to put into words what I’d been feeling. Always in tune to the spirit of occasions and able to sense moods and feelings, this morning she said, “Mama, being at Aunt Ann’s with everybody there felt like being at Granny’s. Seeing the video with her on it reminded me of how much she always welcomed us and loved us unconditionally. I always felt loved at her house and never judged.“ Ditto, Carrie.

The cornbread and bacon? I baked my mother’s special cornbread yesterday using her square-shaped cast iron frying pan and took it to our Easter feast. Unfortunately, things got kind of crazy in the kitchen and we forgot to serve it. It sat covered with foil during the meal and throughout the afternoon until I discovered it later in the day. A few people took a nibble or two, and I brought the rest home.

This morning since Paul and Amanda were still here, I fried bacon just like my mother would have done, and they ate it with chocolate candy, chocolate milk, and hot chocolate. Ah, the strong constitutions of youth! After they left and I began cleaning the kitchen, I spied the cornbread and impulsively bit off a piece and followed it up with a piece of bacon. Um. Tasty. I liked it so much that I tried it again. I saw it as a way of bridging the old with the young, the past with the present, the then with the now.

Isn’t it amazing how memories can form a bridge across generations? It’s important for families to convene, spend time together, share bits and pieces of each other’s lives, and to talk about the past. Although we’re beings with free will who can make our own choices, the past is part of what and who we are.

P.S. I actually wrote this last night but was too tired to upload the pictures of the grandchildren and the young newlyweds.