Well, Mom is a survivor, and she is still with us. (I think we, her children, really need all this advance notice, so to be able to let her go when the time actually does come.)

In my mind, I've been running through all the many things she has done for me. Her cooking, using whole grains and beans, was excellent, but fairly lost on me while I was growing up. I wanted Wonder bread bologna sandwiches and Pringles, like all my friends.

So, as soon as I grew up and moved out of the house, I lived out that dream, of eating the way I thought the rest of the world was living life. I immediately put on pounds. Not a Freshman 15, but a hefty 50! And felt terrible. My Mom kindly mentioned I looked a little chubby just around my cheeks, but in my heart, I knew ALL my cheeks were chubby.

When I finally got my act together, my patient Mom mailed me all her recipes, and whoosh, I dropped all the weight, without any effort at all. And I felt very satisfied, not deprived. This was the life, eating great. Thanks, Mom.