A few days ago, we went to northern Michigan to see The Mister's mom and stepdad. We were glad the weather cooperated while we were both on holiday break and allowed us another chance to go see them. His folks are always thrilled to see us (or at least they convincingly act as though they are!) and we have a very nice visit for the day before heading back home. Of course, as typical visits go, his mom had a stack of things to send home with us - old movies and books she though we would enjoy; chocolates they received for Christmas that she isn't allowed to eat; magazines and catalogs; and of course, beef. They always send us home with beef. (It's a good thing we aren't raising our cows for meat. We'd never have the freezer space!)
This time, when we arrived, his mom had a special treat for us. She was almost giddy with anticipation as she told us what we were having for lunch, especially when she added - "And I made cream puffs for desert! With pudding - just like you used to make them, Amy!"
From a conversation in September, she remembered us talking about cream puffs. While I can't recall what prompted the subject to start with, I do remember that she was surprised to hear that my mom filled cream puffs with vanilla pudding. The Mister's mom always enjoyed the opportunity to make homemade whipping cream and fill them with that. For this visit, she had cream puffs all made and ready to be filled with whichever (or, in The Mister's case, both) filling we preferred.
To say she was tickled is an understatement, but to say I wasn't touched would be as much of one. I nearly cried. They were exactly as I remember from my childhood. I can't even say the last time I had one. I'm not sure I've ever made them for Jacob. But on a plate, in front of me, was this piece of my childhood, complete with powdered sugar on top. Mom would have been tickled, too.
Thank you, Evelyn, for taking a stroll down memory lane with me, and for taking the time to make this memory possible.