Banana Bread
“As a mother comforts her child,
so I will comfort you;
you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. ”
As I opened the door to my dorm room I heard someone say, "Whatever this stuff that your mom sent is great!" It was also gone and it wasn't just "stuff." It was banana bread. Not just any banana bread - it was my mother's banana bread. The banana bread had come in a care-package from my mother and had been delivered to my dorm room while I was in class during the first semester of my freshmen year in college. My "not-yet" life-long friends didn't have to tell me it was good; I knew it was good. All that was left was the plastic wrap with a few crumbs.
I recall this story often and most recently thought of it while watching my wife pack a care-package for our daughter who was a freshmen in college. The central food item in the care-package was oatmeal chocolate chip cookies which are a favorite of both mine and my daughter. My wife guarded those cookies with a ferocity that I am glad we don't often see. Those cookies were for her baby and no one was going to touch them. Since it was obvious I was not going to get any of that batch of cookies I wondered if this care-package would be appreciated like the care-packages that my mother had sent me.
When someone says "a mother's love," I think of this image of Mary and Jesus as it is depicted in the stained glass windows at Saint Andrew's Episcopal Church in Bryan, Texas.
My mother's banana bread meant much more to me than the nutrition and sustenance that it provided. Her banana bread was the reminder of the many times that my mother's unconditional love had comforted me. Even opening the plastic wrap that my mother uses to cover the loaves brings back countless childhood memories. I remember intentionally letting bananas get too ripe to eat just so my mother would make banana bread. I remember watching my mother prepare the ingredients using no written recipe. I remember the smell while the banana bread was cooking and then watching the loaves cool on the wooden butcher block that was the island in our kitchen. To this day I still practice the self-discipline of not eating the ends of the banana bread loaves until the slices in the middle were eaten even though the ends are the best.
One unique thing about banana bread is that it doesn't have a season. My mother certainly makes seasonal favorites. Summer time meant watermelon, fresh fruit salad, and cookies (not necessarily at the same time but it might be a good combination). Fall and winter including Thanksgiving and Christmas meant molasses cookies, pumpkin pies, pumpkin bread and zucchini bread. Christmas itself meant the addition of yellow stars, red bells and green Christmas tree sugar cookies. Spring time would bring a variety of desserts that could be served with ice cream on top including chocolate sheet cakes that were made with my great grandmother's recipe. Banana bread was a year-round treat and was almost always present.
There is certainly not a shortage of favorties that the other important females in my life make that remind me of them. My dad's mother's chocolate meringue pie was simply the best ever made. My mother's mother made great candy during the holidays. My mother-in-law makes wonderful sugar cookies. Note: if a dessert wasn't up to my father-in-law's expectations he would call it a "Benner" and it would get sent to our house for me to enjoy in its entirety. There were very few "Benners" and even they were wonderful. Finally, as mentioned earlier my wife's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies are truly amazing. Obviously, I have a sweet tooth but I could also write volumes on the many meals that I also associate with wonderful memories.
My mother's next care package arrived and this time I made sure that no one found it before I opened it. There was no way that I was going to share any more banana bread. I locked the door to my room and carefully began removing the contents of the care-package. There it was. The loaf of banana bread that I was going to keep for myself. As I lifted it out, I noticed something unexpected. There was a second loaf of banana bread with a note on it that said, "Feel free to share, I can always make more. Love, Mom"