Roots.
After dad passed away, my mother raised my sister and I by herself. Granted, I didn’t know what was poverty back then, and I just thought the other 12 people living with us in the apartment was normal since it was all family. Little things remind me of how great we have it now, and how hard the previous generation(s) worked to give us a better life.
This morning, I was hungry and didn’t know what to eat. I open the fridge and see the can of condensed milk which I use for my Vietnamese Coffee, and saw bread on the counter. So I decided to make what my mother made me for breakfast days on end years ago. Delicious as it may be, I realize now that we probably just had milk/water and bread for breakfast so often because it was cheap.
It’s funny how smells, and tastes can bring back memories, because the first bite I had took me back to when I was 6-7 years old sitting on the ground happy as can be. A simple reminder to be happy, and to be content with all we have in this world!
