I remember using lots of flour, syrup, and butter that morning. A white cloud filled the air when I clapped my hands together making biscuits. We didn't use measuring cups or spoons. Big Momma "eyeballed" everything. She said that you have to feel the love in the food.   Eggs cracked on the side of the big cast iron skillet to join the bacon as it cooked. "See Josey, bacon gives everything flavor."  She laughed and cursed when I dropped an egg on the floor. I tensed up and quickly looked over at Daddy. He was sitting at the kitchen table, laughing at us. Big Momma kissed my cheek and told me not to worry about it.  It was just an egg. We were a baking mess. We sang along with songs on the radio. It was fun. Big Momma taught me a lot of family recipes. She put our dishes on the table one-by-one as they were done. The table was completely covered. It was way too much food for three people. Daddy ate well before he headed off to the pond. Big Momma and I spent the day in the backyard, gardening and playing. We definitely sweated out that grease from breakfast.

I didn't grasp at the time how precious this particular memory was. Looking back, I realize that it wasn't about the food. It was about sharing a moment with three generations of family. I am so blessed to have it and many other memories of Big Momma Brankey.