Marshmallow Tears

A staple in our house is marshmallows. This was originally for s'mores--right after we got our fire pit, s'mores were an almost-weekly tradition. At some point along the way, probably when the snack cupboard was a wee bit bare, I taught Adam about my saltine cracker / peanut butter / marshmallow on top afterschool snack. He put his own twist into it, and now microwaves peanut butter with marshmallows, then dips into it with saltines. (Think chips and salsa.) So marshmallows are almost always on hand.

This afternoon, Michael saw a new bag of miniature marshmallows on the counter and asked if he could have "just a few in a cup."

Wow. With his small request, I entered what felt like a time machine.

When I was a mere two years old--maybe even less--Mom would leave me with Rosa (our maid / housekeeper / nanny) while she went grocery shopping. I did not like for my Mama to leave me. At all. So as a "distraction," these two wise women, my Mama and my Rosa, would set me up on our kitchen counter with a small, metal quarter-cup measure that we had, filled with miniature marshmallows. The cup was like a tiny little saucepan, actually--and was exactly one-quarter cup. I knew it was a ploy to get me NOT to focus on my mama leaving me, but I did love those marshmallows. So I would quit crying long enough to enjoy their tiny, fluffy, heavenly goodness. I can still remember the noise they made as I scooped them out of the metal cup. Dry on dry, with an occasional hair-raising scrape if my fingernails were on the long side. I remember the saltiness of the marshmallows as my remaining tears found their way into my toddler mouth along with the tiny puffs of pure sugar. But most of all, I remember what it felt for my mama to leave me. I knew she would come back, but I did not want her to leave me. At all.

I am grown now, with children of my own. But today, as I passed a small cup of marshmallows to my youngest, I ate a handful of them myself. Marshmallows mingled with tears. And I remembered the taste just like it was yesterday.

Thank you, sweet Mama, for the many happy childhood memories that you made for me. I will treasure them always.