In another familiar ‘tradition’, the last night of my step-son’s visit has me baking brownies for him to take along on his long journey home tomorrow. It isn’t nearly as far as his grandfather’s journey was this past summer, but I did the same thing for El Maestro a few months ago. And, now as was the case then, I am filled with a mixture of happiness and sadness — delight that they want the brownies; sad that they will be leaving Finland much, much too soon.
I may not be able to have long philosophical conversations with either of them, but I can (and will always gladly) cook for them. Hopefully, regardless of where they eat them, both El Maestro and The Jr Cuban know that those brownies were made with a heaps of love. And, maybe, just a tiny tear or two dropped into them as well.