Resurfacing taste of an apple pie

One memory that kept resurfacing over and over in my head this afternoon whilst riding the train was that one weekend where my mom tried this apple pie recipe for us and all I could remember was how great it was despite it being the first time she'd ever made an apple pie or even any kind of pie. I remembered me and my brother kept adding more to our plates and articulating the spot-on taste of the caramelized apple filling and just how the pie crust are so soft and tender, exactly how I like pie crusts to be, and not at all flaky. One thing I failed to remember though, was the expression on my mother's face when we enjoyed her first apple pie and praised her for her creation. The thing is now, I would give up anything to see and remember that expression again because I realized how rarely it was for us to praise her for anything at all. As much as I don't like it, that is, unfortunately, the bitter truth, and there's nothing that I could do about it. This story highlights the fact that the meaning is not in the savory sweet taste of the apple pie or the aforementioned soft and tender pie crusts but how you are grateful for the people who have made and gave the blessings that you now have on your dining table, or more broadly speaking, your life. It is not the objects that you possess but rather how you came to possess them and the people who love and care for you enough to give the effort for you to have them, even if it's just an apple pie. In the light of the coming year of 2016, I hope this story serves as a friendly reminder for me not to take anyone for granted, no matter how I think that I don't deserve any sort of kindness at all.

Carpe diem, O Captain, My Captain!

Love,
Rifa