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A few months back, Cathe Laurie asked me to jot down some memories I had of my mother. This came about because we were talking about our moms and how precious our time with them is, and how the upcoming holidays were going to be really tough for me because I lost my mother on February 2, 2014, from the end result ovarian cancer. To begin, I would like to give a little background on Mama.

Mary Lena was from Jacksonville, North Carolina, born June 14, 1939, a daughter of a tobacco farmer. Mama was raised on a farm where they harvested tobacco, grew their own vegetables, and raised chickens, pigs, and cows for consumption. They had very little money but they always had food on the table and a place to lay their heads. They always worked, played, and ate together—that’s what made them a family.

Mama grew up with a very stern mother, who was the disciplinarian, and a very kind and loving father. Mama was the youngest girl, and number four out of five children. Mama’s brothers and sister were fun, mischievous, and sometimes misbehaving; Mama was too.

Like Mama, I too was born on June 14, but in 1962. We share the same wedding anniversary date (April 23), and we were the same age when we were married: 20 years old. We were a lot alike, and that drove my husband nuts. He’d tease me and say, “One of you is enough.” Besides my husband, my mama was my biggest supporter. She would encourage me and tell me what a great mom I was. She was honest and truthful—sometimes too truthful.

With my work schedule, I have every other Monday off. Mama and I would spend these Mondays together. We would go to breakfast, prepare two or three meals to get us through the week, and if we had enough time, we would catch a movie or go shopping. This was our routine for about 10 years. Then Mama was diagnosed in 2008 with cancer and our routine changed. My Mondays off now consisted of doctor’s appointments, checking her bloodwork, and chemo treatments.

My mama was a great cook. She had me in the kitchen at a very young age. Holidays were the best! It was our time to really show our love for our family through a fantastic meal.

It was my job to prepare the holiday menu. We would start preparing side dishes a few days in advance. Mama and I in the kitchen were a well-oiled machine; we would harmoniously move around the kitchen preparing side dishes that could be kept in the fridge for a few days. We could communicate without talking. We would check on each other, sampling what was in the sauté pan or mixing bowl, giving a thumbs up or a smile. We were perfection in the kitchen.

Well, this past Thanksgiving and Christmas were to be the end of our fun in the kitchen. Mama had noticeably slowed down and her skills had dulled.

On Thanksgiving we let Lucille’s Smokehouse do our cooking for us. Though Lucille’s did their best, they were no match for Mama and me. We vowed never to order out again. And as for Christmas, we had a lot to make up for. Christmas was close, so I prepared our menu and we started what would be our last journey in the kitchen together. We made all our favorites: Prime rib, honey baked ham, mashed potatoes with gravy, macaroni ‘n’ cheese, dressing, sweet potatoes, homemade cream corn, southern-style string beans, baby lima beans, and yellow crookneck squash fried in butter and onions, collard greens, poached pears in port wine, hot rolls, and fried cornbread.

Mama was a trooper; she sat at my kitchen table with her knife, cutting board, and large bowl. She would get up between cutting vegetables so she could stir what we had cooking in the sauté pan or check on what was baking in the oven.

Christmas Eve was approaching and I asked Mama to spend the night. She had recently stopped driving, so David and I picked her up took her to our home, tucked her in bed, and she was out. She was so exhausted.

Christmas morning, we have our traditions. David and I would get up first, David starts a fire in the fireplace and turns on the Christmas tree lights, Christmas music is playing low in the background, and I prepare the hot chocolate and coffee. Everyone makes their way out to the living room and we all find a spot to sit and pass out the gifts. Stockings are always opened first.

I remember Cody, my youngest son, asking Mama to stuff their stockings with what she would receive as a child. So one year she grabbed a pair of white tube socks and gave each boy a sock with an orange, an apple, some nuts still in their shell, and a few pieces of hard candy. They appreciated the experience and were happy they still had stockings from David and me. Everyone takes turns opening one gift so we can see what each received. This was our tradition since I was a little girl. I’m so grateful Mama made holidays so special; I hope my boys will keep the tradition.

We quickly eat breakfast and start getting ready for Christmas dinner, but not before Mama would call her brother and sister to tell them what a wonderful day it had been.

Mama and I spent the rest of the afternoon roasting the prime rib, making the gravy from scratch, baking the macaroni ‘n’ cheese, mashing fresh potatoes, and warming the vegetables. Mama finishes by making the fried cornbread. We always made enough for an army. If you weren’t too full, we would finish with dessert and coffee; Mama and I had our specialties.

Mama and I knew that God was always in control and that this was to be our last Christmas together. God orchestrated such a perfect day for us. Now she’s in heaven and the holidays are approaching. Fall kick starts our holiday traditions. The coming holidays will be different, but both adult boys have promised to help me in the kitchen so we can create new memories. I thank my mama for instilling such great family values. I look forward to reuniting with Mama in heaven and preparing many feasts together. Holidays will always be family, food, fun, and love.