The Pie

My whole life, mom would bake a Shoofly Pie (dry bottom) for both my brother and I on our birthdays. What I did not know until this year, was that the recipe was written for two pies, and she would bake both in September. My brother got his in September and mine was placed with care in the freezer until December.  Honestly, it just made sense to go ahead and make both then give me my pie when it was time.

We recently invited mom over for dinner. She taught us to never show up empty-handed to someone’s house, so when she arrived, she had the second pie, and said “I was not sure what to bring and remembered I had the pie.” We had a pause for a moment, I hugged her and thanked her. We had a nice dinner, but it felt like a large elephant was in the room. When it was time for dessert, we had the pie. 

That pie triggered a flood of childhood memories of moments of feeling like I wasn’t enough or good enough to my father or my brother. I was angry at my dinner table and expressed the feelings that still haunt me more honestly with my mom, cousin and husband than ever before. As I’m writing this, tears are running down my face, embarrassed for being so raw.

I apologized to my mom a few times before J took her home. Of course, I know she didn’t mean to trigger something, her heart is always in the right place.  I do think to save her heart and mitigate my triggers, we can retire the pie and find a new birthday tradition, anyone like ice cream cake?

In the end, we are human. It is ok to have feelings and it is ok to express them in order to move forward.