Oatmeal Raisin Cookies Equal Love

When I was a little girl, we would go visit my great-grandparents in the boonies of Southwestern Nebraska. Every time we’d visit, my great grandma would always have ice cream buckets full of cookies waiting for us in her pantry. My grandmother says that my great grandma started doing that when my dad was little because he loved her cookies so much. We knew when we got there that we’d find big buckets filled to the brim with different flavors of cookies for us to dig into.

Her house always smelled like fresh oatmeal raisin cookies when we’d arrive. I think she baked those cookies last, because they were my dad’s favorite. You could smell them from her driveway! It was like a big sign saying, “Welcome to Grandma’s!” in scent form.

My great grandma passed away a couple of months ago. She outlived my great grandpa by a good twenty years and was 100 years old. She had a full life, and it was her time to go. I don’t mourn her passing because she was ready and was tired. I’m not religious at all, but I like to think there’s a star up in the sky that’s her watching over me now. I do miss her. I miss being able to call her and ask for recipes or just general advice on things. I value having grandmothers to go to for common-sense, since I sometimes seem to lose my own on a regular basis!

The smell that reminds me of my grandmother is fresh-cut grass. She had this amazing, lush, soft lawn that we kids would play on all day long. The smell of Colorado Spruce also reminds me of her, because she used to have a giant spruce tree right outside her dining room window. When we’d visit her, we loved playing in her yard because her grass was always freshly cut and felt so good on our bare feet.

My grandma also always had a loaf of freshly baked bread for us to eat while we were there. I like to think that I got my knack for baking from my grandmothers, and I do love a good, fresh loaf of bread straight out of my bread maker! It’s like a little slice of memories served up with melted butter and happiness.

I call my grandma as often as I can remember to. I miss her a lot! When I was really little, we’d visit her all the time, and each of us girls would get to spend a week at her house all by ourselves each summer. When my parents moved us to Texas, that all changed, and I sometimes feel like I got cheated out of a really close relationship with her because of that. But, I still have memories, and the smell of fresh-cut grass, Colorado Spruce, and warm bread always reminds me of her!

Which brings me to my latest ear worm, which is all about finding your roots along your path of life. Enjoy!

This post is in response to the Daily Prompt.


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