Seajay
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 7, 2011
- Posts
- 448
As far back as I believe I can remember my mother would make chocolate pie with whipped egg topping on it and they were to die for. Me and Poppa loved these pies and mom always made two of them because one was just not enough for Poppa and me. We would go in to supper and when we finished eating mom would break out one of the ''Two colored Pie'' from the warming closet over the wood stove that she cooked on. She would set one on the table and Poppa would take the pie knife and carefully dissect the pie with the skill of a surgeon . He would carefully put the pie slices for me and him on saucers always being careful to give me just a little more pie than he got. We would then decide exactly ''who's Two colored Pie'' was being eaten and ''Whom'' still had a pie in the warm closet over the stove top. This was accompanied with much blustering, fork waving, gesturing, mean looks over your pie on your fork and the occasional offer of a fist fight out in the back yard to see who ''owned the other Two colored Pie'' still in the warming closet over the stove. It was all in good fun and we would play it to the hilt and finally Mom would get tired of the jousting and simply say that she was going to take the ''extra pie'' over to the neighbors and give away if we did not shut up. My Poppa and I were best friends and he loved me as I loved him but when it came to ''Two colored Pie'' it was every man for himself....
Time passed and grew up and I joined the Navy and Mom would always make my favorites when I came home on a pass or on leave. Yep, fried chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, boiled okra, gravy, green beans and real home made biscuit with gravy to go on them and ''Two colored Pie'' for dessert. Poppa would say,,,,,''Well sailor, it is a shame that we only have one Pie but I will see that you get a slice after I eat all I want.'' Mom would grin that knowing grin and eyeball the oven.
Mom taught Linda to make ''Two colored Pie'' when we got married but they just were not the same as mom could make ?..... Mom never measured anything. Just a pinch of this and a hand full of that and a splash of milk and a couple of eggs and a dash of something else and you had a ''Two colored Pie''.... Life was good and we would invite Mom and Poppa down to our house for supper and the ritual of the ''slicing'' was reversed and the same argument as to who's pie was being eaten and whom still had one for later ?...
My poppas heart stopped on him when he was 76. He simply sat down in his recliner and God came and got him and took him to heaven. It was simple as that. My world fell in on me. I seen to my Mothers needs and assured her that she would never want for anything so long as I lived. Time moved slowly and Mom had it really rough for a time. Eventually things got a little better, if you can call it that, and we resumed some sort of life without Poppa. We only lived about a mile from Mom and we were on speed dial so we could be there at a moments notice. Mom was never the same after Poppa died. The sparkle had gone from her eyes and she just seemed to put one day after the next for no particular purpose. She would invite us up for dinner and we would do the same for her. One day we went up for Sunday dinner and she seemed very happy. We had the usual Sunday feast and after the meal she brought a covered dish to the table and sat it in front of me.
''This is something you have not had in a long time I am sure so I fixed this especially for you''
I lifted the lid and there was a ''Two colored Pie''. I just looked at it but I could not touch it.
''Go ahead and cut it and enjoy it,,,,,, I am sure your Daddy would want you to do this in remembrance of him.''
I just sat there like a stone statue with a thousand memories flooding back to my mind. Tears rolled down my cheeks but I simply could not touch that pie. Mom kissed me on the cheek and said she would wrap it up so we could take it home with us.
The pie sat in our refrigerator until it finally went bad and was thrown out and it was still un-cut. Mom never cooked another one and Linda would not cook a ''Two colored pie'' because she knew how it would upset me.
Mom died of cancer one year and one month later and Linda died in October of 03. I met and finally married My Willa in 06 and she made me a ''Two colored Pie'' from a recipe that Linda had written down in the back page of her cook book.
It was my first one in over ten years and sometimes I still have trouble eating the pie without memories flooding back and tears flowing.
Silly as it may seem, I can still see me and Poppa eating pie and arguing about who's pie is getting gone and whom still has a ''Two colored Pie''' in the warming closet above the old wood stove.
Such was the life of a small boy that grew into a man that still loves ''Two colored Pie'' and can finally eat it now....
Parents mold the future generation with love, spankings, gifts, advise and ''Two colored Pie'' if you are lucky..........
Nuff said for now I guess.....
Time passed and grew up and I joined the Navy and Mom would always make my favorites when I came home on a pass or on leave. Yep, fried chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, boiled okra, gravy, green beans and real home made biscuit with gravy to go on them and ''Two colored Pie'' for dessert. Poppa would say,,,,,''Well sailor, it is a shame that we only have one Pie but I will see that you get a slice after I eat all I want.'' Mom would grin that knowing grin and eyeball the oven.
Mom taught Linda to make ''Two colored Pie'' when we got married but they just were not the same as mom could make ?..... Mom never measured anything. Just a pinch of this and a hand full of that and a splash of milk and a couple of eggs and a dash of something else and you had a ''Two colored Pie''.... Life was good and we would invite Mom and Poppa down to our house for supper and the ritual of the ''slicing'' was reversed and the same argument as to who's pie was being eaten and whom still had one for later ?...
My poppas heart stopped on him when he was 76. He simply sat down in his recliner and God came and got him and took him to heaven. It was simple as that. My world fell in on me. I seen to my Mothers needs and assured her that she would never want for anything so long as I lived. Time moved slowly and Mom had it really rough for a time. Eventually things got a little better, if you can call it that, and we resumed some sort of life without Poppa. We only lived about a mile from Mom and we were on speed dial so we could be there at a moments notice. Mom was never the same after Poppa died. The sparkle had gone from her eyes and she just seemed to put one day after the next for no particular purpose. She would invite us up for dinner and we would do the same for her. One day we went up for Sunday dinner and she seemed very happy. We had the usual Sunday feast and after the meal she brought a covered dish to the table and sat it in front of me.
''This is something you have not had in a long time I am sure so I fixed this especially for you''
I lifted the lid and there was a ''Two colored Pie''. I just looked at it but I could not touch it.
''Go ahead and cut it and enjoy it,,,,,, I am sure your Daddy would want you to do this in remembrance of him.''
I just sat there like a stone statue with a thousand memories flooding back to my mind. Tears rolled down my cheeks but I simply could not touch that pie. Mom kissed me on the cheek and said she would wrap it up so we could take it home with us.
The pie sat in our refrigerator until it finally went bad and was thrown out and it was still un-cut. Mom never cooked another one and Linda would not cook a ''Two colored pie'' because she knew how it would upset me.
Mom died of cancer one year and one month later and Linda died in October of 03. I met and finally married My Willa in 06 and she made me a ''Two colored Pie'' from a recipe that Linda had written down in the back page of her cook book.
It was my first one in over ten years and sometimes I still have trouble eating the pie without memories flooding back and tears flowing.
Silly as it may seem, I can still see me and Poppa eating pie and arguing about who's pie is getting gone and whom still has a ''Two colored Pie''' in the warming closet above the old wood stove.
Such was the life of a small boy that grew into a man that still loves ''Two colored Pie'' and can finally eat it now....
Parents mold the future generation with love, spankings, gifts, advise and ''Two colored Pie'' if you are lucky..........
Nuff said for now I guess.....
