Lessons from Mim's Apple Pie

When I was about 1 year old, my parents moved across the country from Vermont to Seattle with my sister, our Great Dane, Sheena, and me. My brother didn't join the picture until a few years later when we were back in Vermont. My parents both grew up within about 15 minutes of one another but did not meet until college. Both their parents and their siblings lived in the same 20-or so mile radius of one another. My parents were the first to leave.

After about a year or so of living in Seattle, we moved back to Vermont. Upon our return, my paternal grandmother (my dad's mom), Mim, told my father that while she was alive, he could never move that far away again without her.

Fast forward to when I was 10 years old, my family once again moved away from our extended family. This time, we did not move across the country, but rather from northern Vermont to southern Vermont. This move took us about 2.5 hours from family, but it was a significant departure from where my parents and then my siblings and I grew up. My Mim, once again, was not thrilled with this move.

Mim did not, however, hold the move against us. Mim and Pop (my paternal grandfather) would make the trek from northern Vermont to southern Vermont frequently. With each visit, they would bring with them an assortment of goodies baked by Mim. Mim was a crafter, painter, quilter, baker, and caregiver to her children and grandchildren.

Each member of our family has a stocking that was handmade by Mim. As we got older, she gifted us all a few extras for potential children and partners in the future or made them as they came along. I have multiple quilts made by Mim. We all have collections of paintings and holiday decorations painted by Mim. Pop dabbled in woodworking so a few of us were lucky enough to receive custom hope chests from Mim & Pop. My immediate family has always had horses, so we have wooden name plates for our horses that were cut by Pop and painted by my siblings and me with Mim's expert guidance.

As for the baking, Mim knew what each of us liked and brought an assortment of treats with each trip. Chocolate chip cookies for the family but a special walnut-free bag for my brother because he's a baby and does not like nuts in baked goods. Whoopie pies enjoyed by my sister, father, and mother. Loaves of bread which we all devoured. And for me, an apple pie. I loved Mim's apple pie.

Mim was also known to bake a coconut cream pie on occasion, but on one such occasion, forgot to add the sugar. We never let her live the sugarless pie down. Mim was also famous for her homemade donuts, sometimes sticky buns, strawberry shortcake, and angel food cake. Pop, to his credit, made a tasty meat pie and was the cook of the pair.

After decades of looking forward to my grandmother's baked goods, I entered a phase in my early 20s when I unintentionally developed some unhealthy eating and exercise habits. I was under-eating and overexercising, fixated on how much I exercised and what I ate daily. For a time, I withered away after college. One of my exercises of choice during that phase was yoga.

All that to say, my last voicemail from my Mim was a call before they headed down for a visit which was something to the effect of, "Hi honey, it's Mim. I know you've been eating healthy and you're into your yoger (Mim-isms would have to be a whole other post) but I wanted to let you know I'm bringing you an apple pie anyway. I know you love your apple pie so you can have some. Ok honey, see you soon, love you."

Mim and Pop both passed within a year or so of receiving that voicemail. It rocked our family and I kept that voicemail and would replay it often until I had to get a new phone. I specifically asked the tech if everything should transfer over and he said yes...spoiler...everything but voicemails transferred, at least at the time. Cut to an almost total emotional meltdown in an AT&T store when I realized my last voice message from Mim was gone.

Now, this may seem like a long, drawn-out story about my grandmother, crafts, apple pie, and lost voicemails, but there's a lot of history and lessons behind something as simple as an apple pie. The apple pie was a symbol of unconditional love. It was a way someone so special to me made me feel loved and special too, until she was gone. To this day, small gestures like that and words of affirmation that let me know someone really sees me or knows me, just make my heart explode.

The apple pie voicemail was a reality check for disordered eating and exercise habits that I was hardly aware of myself. I was like wow, even my Mim has noticed and caught wind that I've been acting different. And you bet when she showed up with that apple pie I ate probably the majority of it myself. The apple pie is a reminder to indulge in life's simple and tasty treasures. It is a cornerstone of my anything-in-moderation approach now versus obsession, avoidance, and restriction around food.

An apple pie is also one way I've shown up for myself in recent years. After Mim passed in 2016, I reached out to my Auntie who has all of Mim's recipes, and asked for the apple pie recipe. Auntie sent me an iPhone note with the recipe which is saved and locked on my phone so as not to be lost like the voicemail. Over the years, I have practiced baking the apple pie. Since moving away from family myself, it is the one thing I must have on Thanksgiving, regardless of where I am. In all honesty, I make an apple pie and bring it for myself, even if no one else wants it. A reminder to ask for the things we want or need and/or give them to ourselves.

Another fun fact about me is that I have a lot of anxiety about hosting people and or cooking for people. I am not a bad cook, but it is something that seriously stresses me out. I've been working on it for the past few years and I am getting more comfortable letting people into my tiny home or preparing food to be shared with others. As far as my apple pie, it's one thing I actually enjoy making and I'm pretty confident in making one now. When I have made an apple pie for my family or brought one to Friendsgiving, people indulge with me and give positive feedback. It makes my heart happy to share Mim's apple pie with family and friends.

This past Thanksgiving, I joined my boyfriend's family for the first time and said I would bring an apple pie. Again, this was mostly for myself as I couldn't imagine a Thanksgiving feast without it, but they were happy for me to bring it. I told them about the traditional VT way to consume apple pie with VT cheddar cheese on the side and was sure to bring some. Turns out, they are much more pumpkin & pecan pie folks but my heart was still happy because they were complimentary of my apple and some even tried it with cheddar cheese on the side.

If you've stayed with me this far, I hope you leave with the sense that small acts of love like baking an apple pie can have lasting impacts on people and in turn, end up being a catalyst for learning to show up for and give love to ourselves.

💗 Court