Hockey Moms


Rogue Wave – Lake Michigan

My mom has a certain cake recipe reserved for only the serious celebrations: all birthdays (Jesus’ included), homecomings, graduations or anniversaries. Basically, anyone who can stand chocolate with a touch of peppermint in the whipped cream filling will be served this cake at some point in our acquaintance. She is quite good at celebrating, no matter the occasion.

Today, not everything went right; I forgot things, and I didn’t get as much work done as I would have liked.  I looked at pictures from a long time ago and felt like less instead of more. My people felt quite far away, and I wondered if my work has value.

But then, floor, eggs, and oil, each measured precisely. Chocolate – not cocoa – chocolate. We drank more tea while the cake baked, and dressed it in a thick layer of icing. A cake, for the newly engaged, for the acceptance letters, for doors flung wide open to the future. For the dreamers whose dreams are coming true before our very eyes.

And we celebrated the best way I know, for our people, even cities and countries away: with cake.

(Image via here)


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