Welcome to the 240th edition of the Thread About Nothing.

(To give Fly and JoCat a break, I gave it a shot, so please be kind.)

April is a big month for my family. We just passed my parents’ 70th anniversary, my mother had her 90th birthday, and my father’s is around the corner. According to my dad, mom’s a bit forgetful these days, and at 92, he’s having some difficulty keeping on top of everything. Although there have been a few episodes of misplaced credit cards, and their "stolen" car turning up parked around the corner, I feel fortunate to have them send their reports of daily walks and Costco misadventures through the telephone lines each week (yes, we still have landlines…). It’s hard being so far away during the pandemic.

During these strange times we’re living through, I’m often amazed by their resiliency. I shouldn’t be, though. They are first generation immigrants whose parents lived through pogroms and the First World War. They are products of the Great Depression who taught us that clipping coupons on a Sunday afternoon can be a family tradition, and living on very little can be a source of pride. They lived through the uncertainty of WWII and served our country during the Korean War. They brought me into the world and gave shelter, love, and either freedom to explore or a kick in the pants when I needed it. And even though we rarely saw eye-to-eye, there was always an unshakeable bond.

Now, as we live through another time of uncertainty, my parents still provide a warm berth even though I’m far away. Today, my mother recited the same pie recipe she’s given twice before while my father’s music played in the background, and although their voices are a bit more pipy than they used to be, I’m still transported to that small kitchen where we’d gather at the table each night. I can almost smell the meal through the miles, and I'm grateful.

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Peach Pie by Amy "Bingo" Bingaman. Hope you enjoy it.