Gina Nordmann

Ms. Yeganegi

World Literature

August 23, 2016

                                                                         Homemade but never the same

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The lingering warmth from the oven crept up the stairs and into my room. The smell of my mother’s homemade chocolate chip cookies had filled my room before I even knew it. My mother used to bake every single hour of every day. It was her passion, her energy, her life.

At 5 years old up until I turned 11 my mother would come home after work and made her oh so famous chocolate chip cookies. It was the only thing I had every looked forward to at the end of every week. She would play loud music and dance around the kitchen until the sun would go down and it was time for bed. I never thought much of it, but this was our family time. We would talk about our week and just hand out. Now that I have grown up and become the person I am today I have changed.

Now that I am 15 I just wish I could go back. Go back to the days when she and I would sing and dance all around the kitchen. When she would bake every week and make them special with all the love and care in the world. When we would hang out, have family time and just express what we were feeling. I wish I could go back to being that little girl watching her mother in the kitchen, so strong and powerful. If I could go back, I would cherish those moments. I would do them over and over again until it was imbedded into my brain that the realization of my mother being this perfect person was just a show.

My mother made cookies to show us she cared. To show us that even if she wasn’t there every day, hour, or minute of my childhood she would still be there for me. My mother got the recipe for her oh so famous cookies from her mother and her mother’s mother before that. This was the family tradition. Handed down from family member after family member. I will always have these memories to show how my mother cared.

The lingering smell of my mother homemade cookies filled my room one last time. My mother has a full time job witch has demolished our weekly family time. But still at least once a year she would make her oh so famous cookies and it will take me back to days when we would sing and dance in the kitchen till the sun has gone down and it was time for bed.