Monday, October 12, 2009

Cherry Pie for Breakfast

While writing tonight I kept having memories of the unique treat I had for breakfast this morning.  I ate a slice of cherry pie and a cup of coffee and have not been able to get the memories out of mind all day.  Sure it was a great tasting pie and it was homemade and given to me by a dear friend, but it wasn't that actual pie that has been haunting me all day.

It isn't my habit to have pie for breakfast and I am sure it has been more years than I would care to count since I have made it anything more than dessert.  But this morning it was there and the memories of my Dad and I came floating in when I saw it on the cabinet next to the coffee pot.

When I was a little girl it was a regular thing for me to go to church with my Dad each Sunday morning.  We lived only a few blocks from the old church and unless the weather was bad we would walk together to the 11am service.  My 6ft Daddy in his suit and little me, always in a dress with patent leather Sunday shoes, would walk hand in hand to the church and sit together on the strong wooden pews.  I can picture him now holding his bible in front of him and me sitting there, swinging my shiny shoes under the seat and not always paying attention to the service being preached.  I loved being there with him, and I am sure like any young child I was very anxious for the preacher to stop talking so that Daddy and I could take our walk to the little resturant we walked past on our way home.

It was a tiny little place and besides the few tables and chairs it had a counter like you would find in a diner.  We would always go to the counter and he would set me up on the high stool next to him.  I would order the small hamburger from the childrens menu, with a soda, and he would always order a slice of cherry pie with a hot and steamy cup of black coffee.  We would talk and I would giggle alot and he would always give me his last little bite of cherry pie.   He would pay the couple of dollars to the lady behind the counter and we would walk home from church.

Thinking of my Dad today I thought of all the old memories involved, dressing up, walking hand in hand to the church, sitting and praying with him or the little game he would always play with the one bite of cherry pie.  I am sure as a little child going to the resturant and having a bite of cherry pie was high on the list of fun things to do, but today the memories are all those things because I was with my Dad.  What memories that cherry pie stirred up in me today, but that piece of pie and cup of coffee this morning brought me happy tears, and a feeling of being a little girl again, being so loved by the man who is my Daddy.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful memories. Even though they bring tears, the happy recollections are worth them. Have a great week! :O)