Now these weren't just ANY cinnamon rolls. They were Ma's homemade ones that were the best ones on the planet, hands down. I don't think any cinnamon roll will ever take the prize of the "best on the planet." Ever. Whether fresh on the counter, or warmed from the freezer, there was just nothing better.
I've begun my own little tradition of making Ma's cinnamon rolls every year at Christmas. Maybe it's because I become more senitmental than usual during the holiday seaons. Maybe it's because I miss her and need to revisit those sweet memories.
As the scent of homemade cinnamon rolls is making its way through my house, a few tears find their way down my cheeks. I wish Ma were still here. I'd so love for my kids to know her. And for them to know her. And her love. And her sweet correction.