Growing up I idolized my father. He was kind, gentle, loving, and dependable. I always knew that Dad had my back. If I was hurt, in trouble, or sad, I could go to him and he would somehow make it all better.
The year I turned 8 two significant things in my life happened, my father went off to war and I got my first cookbook. These events are linked in my mind for the simple reason that I realized there was something I could do to demonstrate my love for someone – I could cook for them.
When my Dad returned home after a year, I made him a pie from the cookbook, all by myself. It was my way of showing him how happy I was that he was back home safe and sound and how much I loved and appreciated him. I shared my love with him and he shared his pie with me.
Today my father is 90 years old and lives with us. He is no longer the straight backed pillar of strength he once was. Our roles have shifted, he depends on me now rather than the other way