One of the unexpected things about losing my mom has been the memories that come rushing back through food.
As we were planning her meal of consolation after the funeral, I found myself wanting all of the desserts we grew up with. It wasn’t just about having something sweet—it was about bringing a little piece of her into the room.
My mom loved to bake whenever she had the time. She’d spend an afternoon making cookies, bars, and treats, then carefully line old shoe boxes with wax paper, stack everything inside, and tuck them away in the freezer. There was always a little treasure waiting.
Of course, as kids, we knew exactly where those boxes were.
We’d sneak downstairs, lift the lid just enough, and steal a cookie…or maybe two. Sometimes we’d get a little carried away. More than once, my mom would go looking for desserts before guests arrived for a party only to discover that the shoe boxes were nearly empty.
Let’s just say…she wasn’t thrilled.
Looking back now, those memories make me smile.
It’s amazing how one bite of something can transport you back decades. Food has a way of comforting us in a way that words sometimes can’t. It isn’t just about the recipe—it’s about the hands that made it, the kitchen where it was baked, and the people gathered around the table.
Besides my mom’s cookies and bars, I found myself thinking about my grandmother’s chocolate-covered frozen bananas. They were simple, but to me they tasted like summer. Then there was my grandfather’s challah. No matter how many challahs I’ve baked over the years, his will always have a place in my heart.
We often talk about comfort food as chicken soup, and for many people, it is. But comfort looks different for everyone.
Maybe it’s your mom’s brownies.
Maybe it’s the pancakes your grandparents made every time you slept over.
Maybe it’s the birthday cake that only your aunt could make just right.
Food has always been one of the ways people say, “I love you.” Long before we recognize it, the adults in our lives are creating memories through the meals they prepare, the traditions they keep, and the treats they make “just because.”
Those recipes become part of our story. Long after the people we love are gone, one familiar taste can bring them right back into the room, if only for a moment.
As I continue to navigate this season of grief, I’m finding comfort in those moments. Every dessert, every loaf of challah, every family recipe reminds me that love doesn’t disappear. Sometimes, it simply shows up in the next bite.
I’d love to hear from you.
What is that one food that instantly takes you back? What special recipe or treat reminds you of someone you love?
-Hannah
