Pancake memories...

As mentioned in a past post, my Daddy was an alcoholic. Looking past that, looking to the sober times, there are memories to be cherished. And one of the things I talk about often are his pancakes. That they were so yummy. That he cut them into perfect squares and triangles. I was with my brother (pictured with Fep above) recently, and something came up about Daddy, and he mentioned Dad's pancakes. I smiled and commented, and he said, "You know that's about all we have left of Dad are his pancakes." And while I can remember more good things about my Daddy than just pancakes, my brother confirmed our love of his pancakes.

This Christmas my brother came over early Christmas morning because he wanted to cook my Daddy's pancakes for us. I have to say I never knew the exact recipe until this year. I've always just used a box mix when I make them. And the pancakes my brother made were good, but I have to say....they didn't taste like I remembered. And I think I like the box mix better. And that made me sad. Cause those pancakes were the bomb diggity (yes, I just said bomb diggity) growing up, and with my Daddy's alcoholic history, I did cherish that memory of when he made those. But then I realized that's whats really important anyway. It's the memories. It's the good memories not the actual taste of the pancakes themselves. And now with the memories of my Daddy and pancakes, I also have a sweet memory of my brother, too. He was so pleased with himself cooking up those special pancakes for us. And it was all done in much love....love for me, love for my children, and love for that special memory of my Daddy.