By: Beth Duncan
We visited my mother for Mother’s Day. It was a special day to celebrate both of our motherhoods. The precious memories I have of my mother are numerous and span across many facets of our lives together. I feel so blessed to be creating memories still—my mother is 64 years old, healthy and eternally so beautiful.
We visited my mother for Mother’s Day. It was a special day to celebrate both of our motherhoods. The precious memories I have of my mother are numerous and span across many facets of our lives together. I feel so blessed to be creating memories still—my mother is 64 years old, healthy and eternally so beautiful.
Of the many memories, there are several that I like to call the “cake memories.” My mother and I both have always said that “we never met a cake we didn’t like.” We both appreciate cakes of every sort; although, chocolate cakes top the list. Turning down a slice of chocolate cake is nearly impossible, bordering on insanity.
For our birthdays through the years, my two brothers and I were each able to choose what type of cake we wanted my mother to make—always homemade, never store bought. I remember choosing a doll cake one year and a cake the shape of a blue ribbon when I loved horses.
But, as I matured and my tastes became more refined, I chose the famous Texas chocolate sheet cake almost every year. It was an incredibly moist cake with a cooked chocolate icing. It makes my mouth water just thinking about it.
While planning my wedding, my mother and I created some of our fondest memories. Choosing the cake was definitely a highlight. It was made by Sweet Stuff in Biloxi, MS, a gulf coast favorite for years. Before choosing the cake, we were able to sample several of their cake and icing recipes. It was mother-daughter bonding at its best.
No, my wedding cake wasn’t chocolate, but it was delicious. It was a simple, yet elegant, design—my taste exactly, and my mother’s as well. I still think of that cake and our wedding planning memories frequently. Incidentally, for the groom’s cake, we happily chose chocolate.
And finally, I have a different sort of cake memory, funny, but so meaningful. It wasn’t until recently that this memory became one of my favorites.
Around the time my second daughter was born 7 years ago, I remember my mother telling me—maybe I should say confessing to me—that on occasion when my brothers and I were young bundles of energy and mischief, she would hide the leftover cake so she could eat it without having to split it into four pieces. Then, when we were finally outside playing or otherwise occupied, she would escape from our view and enjoy her cake alone.
I always thought of my mother as completely self-sacrificing, so this surprised me, this bit of selfishness. I couldn’t truly understand what motivated her to keep the leftover cake from her little angels (ha,ha).
But now, two more children later, it has all become crystal clear to me. We kids were driving her crazy. Now, I can completely understand her motivation. And not only do I understand, but I partake of the same sort of indulgences, without guilt. No, it is not selfishness; it is simply a “chocolate cake escape.”
So, I’d like to thank my mother for the “cake memories” and all of the other special memories. I’d also like to thank her for teaching me that a “chocolate cake escape” is an acceptable part of motherhood.
