It was her own personal tradition.
My mother had a special breakfast that she enjoyed once a year.
Most years, she enjoyed it alone.
Sometimes my father or sister or I would stop by and she would offer us a bite or two.
She was happy to share her tradition.
Mom’s in her nineties and doesn’t cook much anymore, but her culinary skills of days gone by were legendary in our family and community.
On Christmas Day in the morning, while some slept late, some read the paper and others enjoyed the fruits of Santa’s labor, my mother was in the kitchen.
She was at the stove and the aroma filled the house.
Homemade cornbread produced a unique stimulation to the olfactory nerves.
While the cornbread was still hot, she was melting cheese on a griddle.
Mom’s Christmas breakfast was melted cheese on freshly baked corn bread.
It always got Christmas off to a good start.
Image credit: WikicommonsMaybe I’ll have some this morning.