All unexpected gifts are great, but some are better than others.
At exactly 10:04 pm, I was already in bed, reading a good mystery, with 2 of the 3 cats I am feline-sitting snuggled up next to me (and the third curled up on the chair right next to us) when I detected a car parking. I hear someone get out, open the gate, and quickly walk to my door. I recognize the fast pace and there is a rapid knock. I yell out to “hang on!” as I jump up to answer. As my daughter walks in, without a word, she hands me a ziplock bag with exactly three, piping hot, freshly hand-made tamales. Her co-worker’s wife had just made them and they wanted her visiting mama to have some.
As fast as she came in, My Girl retrieved something she had left earlier and headed back out.
Then came my dilemma. I don’t like to eat late and I was full from an earlier dinner, so I opened the fridge and placed them there ’til morning. As soon as I shut the door, I reopened it and took them back out. it seemed the absolute food crime (and lost, rare opportunity) to not taste them in their most ideal condition. I unzipped the bag, took one out, unwrapped it, let the steam fly, and stood over the kitchen sink where I both savored and devoured this generational recipe. Peeling back the husk, all brain and body cells focused on nothing but the texture and flavors of this perfect, unexpected and delicious gift of the heart and home.
Yet, I knew, that what I was really ingesting was a magical moment to not take for granted.
Very happy. Feeling blissed. And very much looking forward to breakfast.