Done In By Fudge

Last week I blogged about how I zipped through the anniversary of my Mom's death and what would have been her birthday without that overwhelming feeling of sadness that hits hardest at this time of year and can stop me in my tracks.  

Last weekend one of my brothers e-mailed and asked for our mom's fudge recipe.  My mom loved fudge and made it throughout the year.  Her fudge was his favorite Christmas sweet, the one he looked forward to the most,  and he wanted to make it.

So I sent the recipe to him along with the directions and didn't think anything more of it.  Then on Monday I received an e-mail from him: 
"The fudge did not set up. What did I do wrong?"  

I had to smile - at the end of his e-mail he said:
 "I asked Mom, but she did not answer."   

I could just see him looking at the fudge and saying:
"Okay Mom, what did I do wrong?"  

So I e-mailed him and told him Mom was speaking through me and that the ingredients had likely not reached the necessary "soft ball stage" that causes fudge to set.   

I could tell my brother was disappointed.

I could so relate.  

I have made fudge several times, and as usual my impatience gets in the way of letting it reach that soft ball stage too.

He said he would try making another batch and I suggested he use a candy thermometer (something that would be helpful for me as well!).  I laughed when he e-mailed back and said:
 "Thanks Mom and Barb."

Well I may have made it through the week before, but I was done in by a pan of fudge that would not set up.   The next thing I knew I was crying, missing my mom. I missed her not being there to help with simple things like this. 

If it hadn't been the fudge it could just have easily been one of a million other things on any given day.  It's often the little things that trip me up.  Oh I wish my mom was here to see some big things in my life, like the births of 4 of our grandchildren since she passed away, but it is the little day to day things that I miss the most. 

That awesome brown glaze on carrots in her pot roast.

Picking up the phone and talking to her about everything and nothing.

Hearing her giggle uncontrollably.

Her ability to make fudge so effortlessly.  

Having her there to give advice.

Seeing her waiting at the door of my childhood home when we arrived. 

Being able to hug her.

And hearing "I love you" one more time.

Don't live for the  big moments in life.  They come and go quickly and are few and far between.

Instead look for joy in the little nooks and crannies of everyday living:  in the phone calls, the giggles, the wisdom and advice shared, the hugs, being welcomed home with open arms, and the simple "I love you."  

Trust me, the little things are the things you will miss the most, because it's not one big thing we miss about our loved ones, it's a million little things.