I used to nag Mom all the time about her messy cooking. To be clear, she always cleans up afterwards, but during the cooking process, the kitchen is quite disheveled. I, on the hand, am not quite nonchalant and impose a strict standard on myself to clean as I go.

I suppose that my Virgo’s rigid tendency to seek out efficiency, order and structure always has to be reminded of patience when it comes to my dreamy Pisces Mom’s mellow pace of executing just about anything.  Whether it’s strolling along the beach, walking down the aisles at Walmart, or preparing loving meals in an untidy kitchen, Mom always savors every second as if it’s her last. 

Thus, Mom never feels compelled to adhere to my uptight kitchen protocol. “A messy kitchen is a blessing, because it means you have a roof over your head. It means you have a working kitchen. It means you have food to cook and food to eat,” Mom explained. And I understand why she feels this way….

The first thirty years of Mom’s life were spent under the constant threat of a raging war and crippling poverty, which reached the cruelest rock bottom point when, after losing their infant daughter to the lack of food and medicine, and already restricted to a government-set ration of 2 outfits per person per year, my parents’ house was burglarized and what little they had was stripped bare-boned.

Dad recalled that when they came home to an empty house, with not even a pan to cook with, Mom fell apart and he wasn’t sure if her tender heart would ever recover. But together and against all odds, their resilience pulled through.

And through the years, I’ve learned to be more empathetic to Mom’s need to slow down and savor life’s every messy moment (and in the process, allow myself the same leniency), because there was a time in her life when she could only wish to come home to a messy kitchen.