Diane’s mind was spinning as she diligently chopped the potatoes. It had been a long day, full of excitement and frustrations. Her mind was drifting away from what she was doing.
“The water’s about to boil over.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Diane raced over to the pot and lowered the heat.
“You know, Jenna doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings. She’s just young.”
Diane nodded, “Was I ever like that?”
“But I still loved and respected you. I was upset and rebelled—yes, but deep down I knew you were right,” Diane admitted.
“Oh, Diane. Jenna loves you more than you realize. She may not always show it, but she knows you’re only trying to protect her.”
Diane threw the rest of the potatoes in the pot then started on the vegetables. “I don’t understand how to connect with her.”
“Do you remember how we connected when you went through your rebellious stage? It was right here working together sharing our love of cooking. Sometimes we didn’t even talk, and sometimes we couldn’t stop talking.”
“Yes, I remember,” Diane said as she reached for the microwave. She grabbed the beef and started cutting it up for the stew. “But that was different. I liked helping in the kitchen.” She paused. “Jenna and I don’t have many of the same interests. I wouldn’t know where to connect with her.”
“Oh … it will come to you. Just pray about it, and it will come.”
Boom. Diane jumped at the noise from the next room. Deep breath.
“I miss you, Mom,” Diane whispered. Footsteps grew louder behind her.
“Mom …” came a soft voice, “who are you talking to?”
“Oh, no one really,” she answered. Diane glanced at the frame on the wall. “I’m just remembering the wonderful times I had with my mom when we’d make dinner in the kitchen.”
“You mean when you were a kid?”
“No … well, yes … but not just then. My mom and I always loved to cook together, even after your father and I were married.”
Jenna could see her mother tearing up.
“It was our special place … a place where we could work peacefully together. No matter what was going on in our lives, no matter what our relationship was like, the kitchen was the place we would always come together. Those are special memories to me.”
Jenna reached over to touch her mother on the shoulder. “Mom, can I help with dinner tonight?”
“Well, dinner’s about done,” Diane turned and hugged her daughter tightly, “but I would love for you to help me with dessert.”
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