Reflections on the Second Week of Spring

 

      I shifted the lightweight, twelve inch cardboard cube from hand to hand Easter Monday. Had Lori, my cousin who hadn't mailed a Christmas card in years, sent me a basketball? I cut the sealing tape, opened the flaps, and unwound layers of bubble wrap from a square-foot silver tin. With fingernails, I pried clear tape from each side, then opened the lid. An almond aroma filled my nostrils and a butterfly Easter card lay on top of the contents. The note in the card read,

My dearest Janet -

I was sorry to hear about your mom's passing. At any age it's hard to lose your mamma. My mom used to make Sprintz cookies sometimes at Christmas from Grandma's recipe. I was hoping Aunt Dot used the recipe, too and I could send you a tasty memory from your mom to celebrate spring.

      Nestled in crushed waxed paper were bunny, chick, and Easter egg shaped cookies. No doubt the ingredients included milk and butter–two of my forbidden foods. But Lori had made them especially for me.

Okay, I did add extra Almond Extract. What can I say? I like the taste of almond. And just like our moms baked them, I added lots of love.

      I fingered a bunny head that had broken off during transit. Just licking wouldn't bother my lactose intolerance. Would it? I popped the head into my mouth and chewed.

      WOW! Butter and almond flavor exploded on my taste buds. Saliva dissolved the cookie.

      Spit it out.

      I rolled the moist dough over my tongue, closed my eyes, and savored the taste of cookies Mom used to bake.

      Spit it out, dummy!

      Sighing, I spit the dough into a napkin and rinsed my mouth with water.

      I re-wrapped the cookies. Which offspring, Spencer Charles or Ellen, could get the cookies faster so they'd arrive fresh? Spencer Charles, who would drive to Wells Wood sometime this week, or sending to Ellen and husband Chris via Priority Mail? I chose less temptation. Besides, when Spencer Charles arrived, I could bake him cookies I could eat.

I emailed Ellen that special cookies were on the way, and she replied,

           Check. Coooooooookies incoming! I'm positive Chris will eat any and all cookies.

      Tuesday, four hours after I dropped the cookies at the post office, Spencer Charles drove his new red Cruz onto the driveway. Wednesday he defrosted Wells Wood blueberries while I mixed batter. After the blueberry drop cookies cooled on the rack, I tested one. No butter-explosion, but a warm blueberry squished in my mouth, and almond flavor tap-danced on my taste buds.

      Then Ellen emailed,

Chris' grandma died today, he won't be here to get the cookies since he'll leave tomorrow to go help his mom.

      I sent condolences and suggested Ellen take the cookies to share with Chris and family at the funeral. Thursday evening, she answered,

I just picked them up. It's been raining all day . . . hopefully they are OK.

      In a sealed tin, in layers of bubble wrap, in a box? I wasn't worried. Lori's extra almond and extra love cookies would comfort other mourners this spring.