Every Saturday morning always begins the same for me…standing in the kitchen I’m flooded with memories.
When our children were little…and whenever grandchildren came our way…Saturday morning at our house was always pancake day.
Saturday morning was when my creativity and artistic talent was thoroughly tested…as I’d make pancakes in any shape and color our children or grandchildren requested.
Some of my creations were more Impressionistic…others were a little less than breathtaking…but I’m proud to say no request was ever rejected in all my years of pancake making.
I like to think that, every now and then, on a Saturday morning our children and grandchildren think of me…and think about the branch we grew upon our family tree.
And how that branch connects to all the other branches…back through the annals of time…helping to make our tree strong and transcendent…noble and sublime.
I hope they’ve learned this lesson…deeply rooted in our family tree…
that an adventure is exactly what a family is supposed to be!
And how a family, again like my pancakes, on this my children and grandchildren would agree…is never flawless…never perfect…but…they don’t have to be.
You see, no pancake I created was ever perfect…but they did have a kind of flair…and as long as they resembled the request…our children and grandchildren didn’t care.
Because when it comes to family, just like those pancakes made every Saturday morning throughout their childhood….
It’s the time spent together in their creation…
that makes them taste so good…
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