A sweet memory of the past

Written for The Daily Post:Time after time

Tradition is not something I do for pleasure.  But the memory of them is pleasurable (even if, like now, they sometimes make me cry).  It keeps the child in me alive.  The feeling of trusting someone completely, feeling safe, and belonging somewhere.

The night before Eid was a special night to the child version of me.  My mother was a single mother.  We knew she loved us, but she didn’t have a lot of time to show us because she worked so many hours to keep us safe and warm.  The memory of the night before Eid is something I will always cherish.  The soothing smell of sweet things baking in the oven.  Helping in the kitchen, fitting on our fancy specially made dresses for the next day.  Going to bed late.  Licking the leftover cake batter still clinging to the mixing bowl.  A whole night of two happy little girls in love with their mother.

15 thoughts on “A sweet memory of the past

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