this picture of these hands will always bring tears to my eyes. these hands taught me so much. i learned to watch these hands work in the kitchen making jellies and jams and buttermilk biscuits and cornbread dressing. i saw these hands hold my newborn babies with the same loving care that i would–the kind that a nurturing woman would show to anything and anyone precious to God. i saw these hands turn so many pages on the same story books over and over and over through the years. i have seen these hands lose their ability to cook and to hold and to do the basic things in life. these hands held my children as they were growing from babies to children and then hold their hands. these same hands held my children’s daddy when he was fresh from God and then his hand as he grew into adulthood. I love these hands. they speak of what should have been….to grow old together….instead, sin and selfishness and old age and circumstances have kept us apart. these hands will always hold my heart as i hold hers…..
this is who we, in our home, call Whiz. Her name is Eloise, but my oldest was 3 when we met her and she could not say Miss Eloise so she called her Whiz– and it stuck…for life. Whiz has loved on me like a mom would. she has come to help me when i had all 8 of her grandbabies. she taught me many things. I will be sharing a few things she taught me in the kitchen. i made my first Thanksgiving dinner the first year she was my mother-in-law. she walked and talked me through the different aspects of the dinner…..and it is a true southern Thanksgiving dinner. I would be greatly remiss if i didn’t honor the woman who gave me the courage to face that first dinner I love you, Whiz. Thank you so much for ALL you have done through the years.