A lot of mouths to feed

Sometimes I wonder if this is how we looked to our mom -- a whole lotta' mouths to feed. Because at 60 years old, I am so sick and tired of grocery-shopping, cooking and serving meals that I am ready to throw in the towel.

I remember being in disbelief when Mom lost interest in making meals. She was always a great cook and seemed to do it so easily that it never occurred to me what a chore it must have been to keep our bellies full. Now I understand.

Momma was the queen of pie-baking, even baking pies to help pay her room and board when she was in business school in Columbus. Later on, for the family, there would be a cherry pie for Don, a coconut cream pie for Dad, apple pies, raisin cream pies, pies of every kind coming out of that kitchen.

When Dad wanted to visit his old friend Ossie Owman, who was sick and dying, Mom went along, and Ossie mentioned her wonderful pies and his particular favorite, raisin cream. Now Mom must have been nearing 90 then, but she went home and made his favorite pie for him, and she and Dad took it to him. That's how Mom was. She always rose to the occasion.

But, oh, all those years of working all day, stocking the fridge and shelves on the week-end, and then coming home each night to make healthy, nutritious and delicious meals for all of us. I can't recall that we ever ate out, and who would want to when we had Mom's dinners to look forward to? No picky eaters in our house, no ma'am.

When I think of the number of meals she cooked, how she could recall what each and every one of us liked to eat and fix it for us, it boggles my mind.

Thanks, Mom, for taking such good care of us -- for feeding all those hungry baby-bird mouths that were always waiting for a tasty morsel.