WHO WANTS TO START FIRST?

This week brings to a close the Fall session of “A Course in Memories: Writing Your Legacy,” an Adult Education course held at Williamson High School, which I teach every Monday from 4:30-6pm. It has been both an honor and a pleasure, and I look forward to returning again in the fall.


Teach is a strong word in this instance, as there really are no instructions offered. We are more voyeurs, listening to the lives of each student who cares to share their story with us, their classmates. Family albums have been spread across tables, pictures ripped from living room walls, and CD home movies played on my laptop. We truly become part of each other lives. I’m not surprised long lasting friendships are formed in that corner classroom.

Putting their memories and experiences to paper is an exercise in poignancy and tenderness. We are often moved to tears and sometimes laugh until we realize its time to go. Learning a history of someone’s life, glimpsing briefly into the edges of their hearts has been rewarding beyond words. Wars, romance, heartbreak, death; its all there, and then some.

Some students from the Spring session have returned to continue their books, which is a personal thrill for me. Hearing their stories read aloud is akin to watching a serial movie every week. I can’t wait to hear the next chapter. There is never any pressure to share what they’ve written, but no one ever seems to mind. Sometimes the information gleaned from their memories is personal and meant only for the eyes of their intended recipient. That idea is respected and encouraged. There seems to be a level of trust in the room, however, and long held secrets and private hurts are sometimes uncovered, surprising even themselves as they read it aloud. Voices hushed, tinged with sadness or loud with humor, we never know what we are going to hear – and that’s what is so rewarding about this class. There is no “wrong” way to do this.

Every week I hand them a list of ‘triggers,’ questions to give rise to a memory either long buried or close to the surface. It’s really like the proverbial “box of chocolates;” we never know what we’re going to get. But I know I am not alone in my excitement when I pose the same question that starts every class.

“Ok, who wants to start first?”

PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN CAKE

The kids were over for dinner last night, and even though they are no longer children, I like to put together a menu that is reminiscent of when they were.

The one serving our country is back on dry land after six years and is no worse for wear from the experience. He is older, wiser and more mature. A natural progression, of course, but it is still odd to see him as a man.

Standing next to him at the front door was his best friend and my 7th child, Jon. They have been friends since kindergarten, and it is my deepest joy that they have remained friends all these years. I believe the art of friendship is the biggest gift you can pass on to your children.

How to get them, how to keep them, and how to be one.

Dinner was meatloaf and an old favorite for dessert: Pineapple Upside Down Cake.

It immediately brought a smile to his face when I brought it into the dining room, steaming hot and bubbling having just retrieved it from the oven. For this was his first attempt at cooking while in 1st grade, a project all students were asked to do.

Bake something with your parents and bring it to school! The flyer said.

"I want to make an pineapple upside down cake!" He announced proudly.

"Can we?"

I looked at him and smiled, even though I didn't have a clue back then as how to assemble one.

Thank goodness for the Betty Crocker Cookbook I had received when I was first married at 21 years old. It had followed me from house to house, and had served me well. I learned how to make chicken pot-pies and far too many variations of meatloaf than I cared to admit, but it was a great source of information. It taught me how to get out of more scrapes in the kitchen than I could have imagined.

"Sure" I answered happily, as I reached for the good book. "Let's find a recipe."

Needless to say, the Pineapple Upside Down Cake was a success, and he talked about it for days on end, until even his baby sister couldn't stand it any longer.

"Why did you want to make that cake, anyway?" she asked exasperated. "What’s so special about that cake?"

She had asked the question I had been rolling around in the back of my mind since he had asked for it. Since I had never made it before, I wondered why he was even interested in it.

Looking at me with the pride I still see in his eyes to this day, he answered. I will never forget the dedication and unabashed affection in his voice as he told me simply and without embarrassment.

"It's my best friend Jon's favorite cake" he said joyfully, and then he turned to run into the living room. The Transformers were on t.v.; one of his favorite shows.

The memory of that day has been tucked away in my mind and wasn't brought back out until I laid the cake in front of him again last night after dinner.

We smiled, as no words were needed. I cut the cake in giant squares to pass along with vanilla ice cream.

For we know that good friends are forever, no matter what.