Christmas Without Mom

This was our first Christmas without Mom. Mama Webb, as she was known to most of the community, loved to cook and she loved to garden. She always said that if you’re feeling depressed, go out and dig in the dirt. Plant something, pull weeds… just dig around. You’re bound to be in a better frame of mind.

She was like that about cooking as well. She cooked when she was happy, when she was worried, when she was sad. That was her job and she was a proud cook. For years when we suggested we eat out for dinner she’d take it as a slam against her cooking. “Why go out to eat steak when we have steak in the freezer?” When I moved out into my own place she was insulted when I mentioned I was going to cook my own meals. “What, you don’t like my cooking?”

So it was through the years we’d stand back, let her cook and we’d clean up the kitchen after the meal. Sure, sometimes I’d fix something, like when I learned how to make chicken and dumplings or when I did some Bar B Que ribs she’d allow me to add my contribution to the table, but for the most part the only time she’d let us do the cooking was if she was really sick.

It worried me last Christmas when she let sis and I cook Christmas dinner. And off and on over the past year she’d be too sick and I’d cook supper. I would know when she was getting better when she would come stand over my shoulder and tell me how to boil eggs, or something equally simple. Come July and August I was really wishing she’d run me out of her kitchen again.

Then in September she passed. She was ready to go. Actually, she was growing impatient to go. She went peacefully.

So today was sis and my second time to make Christmas dinner. We had ham, green beans, potato salad, rolls and candied sweet potatoes. Maybe not a super big feast but it was lots more than the three of us could hold and I see plenty of left overs in our future. It wasn’t the same without Mom being there but the three of us had fun collaborating on the meal and hanging out and getting in each other’s way. Maybe we’re starting a new tradition.