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A love letter to my childhood

A love letter to my childhood

The holidays bring up so much stuff; memories of childhood, reminiscences of days gone by, loneliness for a family connection when there is none.

But for me, mostly, I am aware of how lucky I was to grow up the way I did. My mother was the original superwoman – she did it all; from cook gourmet meals, to create a home that was; beautiful, artistic and cozy, to having a successful career as an artist, to being glamorous and fun.

I grew up with parents who could do everything, and they were so far ahead of their time. We had a home filled with art, music and amazing meals and a garden where we grew all our own vegetables. We composted, we weeded, we ordered whole wheat flour from Minnesota so my Mom could make homemade whole wheat honey bread. This was the sixties and seventies and my parents were so advanced, they were renaissance people. I was so fortunate to learn to do all these things. Tonight, as I roast a chicken, water the plants, take the clothes off the line, build a fire and light the candles for another lovely meal, I realize how grateful I am to have been my mothers daughter. How lucky I was to have aunts and uncles that also continued the grace and elegance and beautiful holiday dinners. How rare it is, these days to meet anyone with such a childhood as mine. How rare indeed and there is a sadness to it, of days gone by and missing them all; these incredible people, these artist, musicians, these mavericks… thank you to my family. Thank you.

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