The Comfort of Cooking

I stood in my kitchen this morning feeling some sort of comfortable connectedness to it. The cold floor reaching through my wool socks right to my toes. The sound of pulling out pots and pans, the sound of the chair being pulled out from the table. The familiar sounds of washing dishes and stacking them in the dish drainer. Just all comfortable sounds to me. Home sounds. From early this morning till just now at 8 p.m. I have been in the kitchen cooking, baking, laughing with my family and feeling satisfaction from watching my husband and son eat. My daughter seems to snack more than eat, she is busy and of course wants to maintain her thin body. Right before my eyes, grown boy hands would sneak another whoppie pie or laugh with his sister as they had a bowl of tapioca before meal and just like when they were little make jokes about it being fish eggs.
Anadama bread baking filled the house with the mingling smells of corn meal, molasses and that special homemade bread smell.
Although I feel tired and my feet are just a bit worn out feeling from standing all day long, I cannot help but feel good about my day. The house quickly warmed up with all this baking and preparing one meal after another. But the dinning room stays a bit cooler and so the steam rose in large pillars from the hot bowl of tapioca when I placed it on the table to cool.
I thought a bit about my day and felt a bit sad for all the ladies that do not have this simple joy from their being in their kitchens. I can see the happiness on my families faces tonight as they talk about mothers cooking and how much they love what I make for them.
I love the comfort of cooking for my family. Truly I feel blessed