Soup Beans and Cornbread

I have mentioned southern cooking before, and made fun of folks getting "bean soup" and "soup beans" mixed up because they ain't from around here.

But yesterday as I ate this meal I had prepared (along with fried taters, chow chow and a sweet onion), I realized how much history it brought back to my memory.

I could sense my Daddy John sitting there, his one ring finger bent to his wrist from arthritis, the light glinting off his glasses, the easy grin he had when hearing something funny.

I could see my Mama Hill serving me 'pop taties' in my old green high chair, lots of family surrounding us, conversation all around.

I could  hear my mother-in-law's sweet giggle, laughing at something silly Husband or myself had said, as she set the kitchen table with cornbread, soup beans and fried potatoes. She always made extra potatoes because she knew how much I loved them.

I could hear my own Mother's voice on the telephone, telling me that somebody needed to come and get a pot of soup beans she'd just finished cooking. The blessing of that is, I may hear her say that tomorrow.

How wonderful it is to see Husband's eyes light up when he knows that's what I'm cooking for dinner or supper. His favorite meal, bar none.

The simple pleasures of life are what make memories and sweetness in our life.

There is nothing better.