I want to tell you about my mom. She was a pretty awesome lady. She loved to cook and make things and she had a sweet tooth like no other. But beyond being a lover of all things tasty, she was an amazing mother who she spent her life helping others. Ten years ago today, she lost her battle to cancer. As you may imagine, it was the most devastating and heartbreaking thing that has ever happened to me.
It wasn’t until I started embracing food and cooking that I found some sort of solace—a sense of belonging. When I’m in the kitchen—creating a complete disaster that will somehow come together into something tasty—I think of her. Even when I’m out at a restaurant, trying something new, I think of how astonished she’d be at the child who’s primary diet for 18 years was macaroni and cheese. She accepted my messiness (I’m not saying she was pleased with it) and always encouraged me to be creative. I am incredibly grateful to have spent twenty years with my mom, but it’s been in these last ten years that I’ve seen her passion and quirkiness live on in my life and that makes me proud.
So on this day, I will hold my head high in honor of my mother, Patricia Schofield; a woman who inspires me each and every day to follow my passions and keep making things.
The awesome photo of my mom and me was published in our local paper along with a story about my mom’s love of cooking, circa 1990