When dad knew I would be eating at home, I could tell he deliberately cooked up a little bit more. They are simpler meals as compared to what I get every Sunday. But even in the simplicity, these flavours would never be the same as what I can buy from coffee shops or restaurants. And I know for sure it's a taste that I would certainly be able to accept.
Not that I am bragging but even my nephews and niece are spoilt by what my dad cooks. When they hear it's my dad's soup, they will surely want to drink. I guess I am fortunate to be borned into this family I have. I recall that my maternal grandfather used to cook up good stuffs for us too when we visited him. I missed his cookings, it's been 20 years since he passed away. But I'll never forget the specialities he cooks for us and how it reminds me of a grandfather/father's love for his family.
Life may not always be smooth but it is times like these that we give ourselves some time to stop and take stock of what is going on in our life. And in this little illness, it has reminded me how blessed I am.
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