There are a lot of things that I love about being home. I love that my southern accent is so thick that some people have a hard time understanding me on the phone. I love having family prayer every single night and morning. I love helping my sister curl her hair or sitting and watching my mom as she fixes her own hair. I love how my dad thinks it is funny to wake up everyone in the house ridiculously early by playing music over the stereo system or by singing loudly in the mornings. And I love eating my mom's homemade strawberry preserves on toast, biscuits, or even waffles. Strawberry preserves that have so much sugar in them, that you might has well not eat anything else that day because you've already had your calorie intake for the entire day. Strawberry preserves that are made from fresh, hand-picked strawberries from the strawberry fields just a few miles away every spring.
There is just a different feel to being with my family. There is something magical about it, healing. The way we all have a very similar sense of humor and therefore we all find the same things funny. The way we can sit around and just talk about anything and everything. The way I can know exactly what to expect from my family members. The way we have funny and sometimes quirky traditions that have carried on through the years. I think that the best way to describe being with my family is through strawberry preserves.
Just like my family, strawberry preserves are familiar, something that I'm used to, and they have been made through time and hard work (anyone who has made preserves from hand-picked fruit knows that it is a long process). The sweetness, tartness, and flavor of the strawberries makes the preserves what they are. And they are there, every time I come home, as much as I want.
I love strawberry preserves.
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