HAPPY GO LUCKY

Cherished Memories

Why is it there seems to be no place on earth like "Mama's house" and no better cooking than "Mama's cooking?"

Even though we all live in the same town, our individual families get so caught up in our daily routines we seldom all get together until Mama calls. We can always count on the hugs to begin at the front door, and the laughter to start just inside it. Our day is filled with timeless remembrances that make us smile as we break bread together. We almost always wind up going around the room telling our own favorite "I'll never forget the time..."

Some make us giggle out loud and some make us cry with joy at having been part of those moments in time. Eventually we each walk around the house touching books and whatnots on shelves that hold special meanings - every room is like another memory book full of sounds and stories that echo ever clearly in our heads.

Yesterday, my sister-in-law recalled the first time she ever came to our house. (Unbeknownst to her, my brother had warned every member of our family - especially my dad - for weeks in advance, that he was bringing home someone special. We had all been warned to be on our best behavior.)

The night he brought her to meet "the family" he led her back to the den where everybody was gathered, except my dad. Mama excused him for not being in the room, but quietly announced that he was in the bathroom and would be right out. (My brother glared at my mother as if to say motheerrrrr, did you have to say "bathroom.") We could all tell how nervous Shelia was and never imagined what was about to happen.

My dad walked out of the bathroom, adjacent to the den, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around him. When Shelia looked up he said, "Shelia, I'm Chuck's dad," and in one fell swoop he pulled the towel from around himself and dropped it to the floor!

We could remember her gasp to this day, and could just see my dad standing there with his long khaki pants rolled up above his knee, with that mischievous giggle in his eye.

Even the grandkids tell their own stories, recalling shenanigans we parents never knew anything about... It's amazing how the stories and the laughter, the heartbreaks and the pride live on through each generation.

Even if Mama served pancakes on paper towels I dare say any of us would pass up an opportunity to go back there and renew our hearts with cherished memories to sustain us till the dinner bell rings again.