Memories made in kitchens last a lifetime
What do you think of when I say the word “kitchen?”
To me, it means warmth, laughter and being around our family table in front of a big plate of lasagna. My mom made the best lasagna. And, if we did not clean our plates, my brothers and I heard the only Italian word we ever learned from our father, which was, “Mangia!”
I guess that is why I love the movie “Moonstruck” so much. It came out in 1987, starring Cher, as Loretta Castorini, and Nicholas Cage, as Johnny Cammareri. Loretta has many hilarious and heartwarming conversations with her mother, Rose, played by Olympia Dukakis, in their kitchen, as she tries to decide between the two men in her life, who are brothers.
I can remember as a small child looking up at my Aunt Lucia, making homemade raviolis on her kitchen table. I remember all my Italian relatives gathered around a big pot of tomato sauce on the stove discussing the cares of the day, while taking turns stirring the sauce with a big spoon. As the years moved on, I remember my mom baking banana bread and “Cowboy Cake” on wintry afternoons.
I remember when I was in sixth grade and my mom helping me at the kitchen table with my math problems. A pot of oil on the stove caught fire as my mom was going to make French fries. I quickly applied what I learned from a fire fighter who spoke at our school and smothered the fire with our area rug.
I remember one night praying fervently with my mom and her best friend, Joanne, at our kitchen table, that my brother Dan would wake up from all the drugs he was mistakenly given for what the doctor called “a simple tonsillectomy.” He did, and went on to become a successful architect.
I remember having to tell my father, as he was sitting at our kitchen table, that his youngest brother passed away, and how he hung his head and cried. I was the one who had to tell him because my mother was in the hospital recovering from a brain aneurysm.
Having our prayers answered, I remember as the years went by bringing my children home to see my parents and how we laughed in the kitchen. We even danced in our kitchen!
And, I remember the last time I had dinner with my mother when, years later, I came home to spend time with her. It was so hard not to cry when my frail 92-yearold mother joyfully proclaimed, “I made you a pot roast!” as she welcomed me home.
Recently, my youngest daughter, Ashley, brought my grandkids to visit me for spring break. We had such fun times in my kitchen, as I fixed everyone breakfast in the mornings.
And, not long ago, I was visiting my oldest daughter, Lindsay, in her kitchen. As she was holding my youngest grandchild in her arms, she asked me if I remembered the words to that lullaby sung in the original 1941 Disney movie, “Dumbo.”
We found the song “Baby Mine,” sung by Betty Noyes. As I played it on my phone, tears started streaming down my cheeks and my daughter’s cheeks, as we formed a family hug in her kitchen. Without saying a word, we just knew why that song touched our hearts so much. My daughter went through a major surgery not long ago, and is still recovering.
We have also had many moments of laughter, as my little granddaughter opens the refrigerator door herself now, will grab a bag of muffins my daughter has made, and says, “Eat!”
Like a warm breeze on a sunny day, life flows through our kitchens as the years drift ever onward. The feelings of being a family flow through our kitchens as they mingle with the aromas of foods made with love. Kitchens hold our laughter, tears, and memories. Kitchens will always be “the heart” of our homes. Anne Mount is a Dayton native and an award-winning journalist, author, and screenwriter. Her articles have appeared in “San Francisco Chronicle,”“The New York Times,”“The Dallas Morning News,”“McCall’s,” “Redbook,”“Ladies’ Home Journal,”“Mademoiselle,” “Reader’s Digest,”and other publications. Email Anne at acmountwriter@hotmail.com