Thanks for the memories.

This plastic box, meant for sewing, used for cake decorating, circa, 1960. It was my mother's, now it is mine. It holds old treasures belonging to my mother, and new treasures belonging to me. It hold memories of many birthdays when my mother would pull out the box to decorate a cake for me, or a sibling. It holds memories of my mother decorating cakes for new babies, for weddings, for bridal showers, or any other occasion. It hold memories of my mother decorating gingerbread cookies at Christmas, heart cookies at Valentines, and pumpkin cookies at Halloween. Most of all it holds the memories of me watching my mother, as she effortlessly made something beautiful, and wondering why my ability was somewhat lacking.....

Tips, some of which are mine, some of which belonged to my mother, some of which bare my childhood teeth marks from trying to suck every last drop of frosting out of the tip once my mother was done.

Bowls of colored frosting waiting to be put in a bag and artfully applied to the cake.

The parchment bags I never could figure out how my mother made......

Most of all the box is a link to my mother, a connection, a way of knowing I am doing something she did, as my children watch in amazement at my ability, that with time and maturity has come to equal my mother's. It is not used a frequently as it once was when my mother was alive, but three times a year, on February 15, May 1, and May 16 it is resurrected from the basement, and life through the generations can be felt with each squeeze of the frosting bag as something is made beautiful.