"Normal" is a fluid thing in this day of Covid. Things have been disrupted these past years - no wait, months. Things we used to consider "normal" and maybe not even look forward to are now things we crave.
Holidays have been the times where families get together and share. We've all heard the same stories told many times over the years, but maybe not this year. Those traditions are being interrupted.
For me, there aren't stories that stick in my memory. There are cookies. Not just any cookie, but peanut butter ball cookies. I have tried to make them, others have made them. But they aren't the same. There is something that my grandma puts in them that's not on the recipe that makes them a million times better than any time I have ever attempetd them. She'll laugh in her way and say there isn't anything special. Oh, but there is...
Maybe one day I can get her to actually write what's "really" in the recipe for those cookies and I can add it my daughter's Happy Thought Book. Grandma's Recipe in her handwriting, maybe sharing her secret.