Today is many things in addition to when we literature fans celebrate William Shakespeare’s birth. That seems like as good of a reason to eat lemon meringue pie as I can come up with right now. Of course, there are others. Such as:
- Today is my sister’s first wedding anniversary. Which means that one year ago today, I got up a tad earlier than usual and made her a lemon meringue pie. It was their “bride and groom” celebratory slice as they had pies for their wedding reception rather than cake.
- Lemon meringue pie is a lovely striation of yellow and whites and hues of creamy tans. Always reminds me of sunshine and the beach.
- Lemon meringue pie is both sweet and sour. Rather like life, don’t you think?
- A lemon meringue pie isn’t terribly hard to make but it looks exotic and rarely graces our “everyday” table — it is saved for what seems like special occasions.
- If you do everything right and follow the directions perfectly, the meringue just might weep and pull away from the crust anyway. It will taste exactly the same even if its appearance may seem disappointing. It is a good reminder that sometimes what matters most is not what we see with our eyes but with our other senses.
- Ask any lemon meringue pie eater about what lemon meringue makes them think of…the stories are beautiful and filled with people who made a difference in their lives.
- When the sun shines, like it is today, lemon meringue pie is like sun beams on your tongue.
What does a real love story look like? Is it patient and kind, always protecting, trusting, hoping, and persevering? The answer isn’t written in only black and white but in many shades of grays, overlapping and swirling into images our mind makes into a meaningful story.
A real love story is a bit like a fireworks display lighting up a dark summer night.
Let me tell you a story…
Not much tops holding hands. Seriously, think back to all the times in your life when you’ve held someone’s hand in yours. There is a reason we teach children to hold hands when crossing streets or heading out into the world. Holding hands makes us safer, stronger, bigger. Such a little action but such a mammoth effect. For that reason, so many occasions are marked with a handhold.
The first time you held hands with your sweetheart. The last time you held hands with your grandparent. Holding the hand of a 285 pound football player as his eyebrow was stitched closed. Holding the hand of the passenger sitting beside you during a terrifying plane ride. Holding the hand of a stranger at a peace vigil.
Holding someone’s hand is powerful. Because holding someone’s hand is a connection with them and with yourself. And for that, the handholders of this world have the power of the world in the palms of their hands.
My handholders? It’s a special list. It includes the obvious folks as well as some you’d never guess and whom I can never name for various reasons. But it is a pretty special list, and one I’m pleased to say is longer than shorter. Each handholder has made my life better for having been in my life and connecting with me.
And one of my primary handholders is my Littlest. The other day I asked him if he knew what my favorite thing in my whole day had been. His answer?
“Holding hands with me on our walk?”
He was right.