A quaint old house, jovial banter between the sisters and their mom as they prepared the evening meal. The matriarch’s witty commentary as she shared nuggets of cooking wisdom, while mixing the timun kerabu by hand... It was so precious to see her lovingly set aside a milder portion for the younger sibling before spicing the rest to suit our palate.
Their genuine warmth and easy camaraderie in making me feel included was truly a blessing, yet it left me feeling lonely in ways I had forgotten.
The whole scenario brought back a surge of memories of my own mother who always ensured there was warm food when I got home from work. While the food in itself was not lavish, the undivided attention she lavished on me while I ate was priceless.
Love comes in many forms and shapes, but it is most often felt and tasted in the food that is prepared by the loving hands of a mother.