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Mmmm, Chicken soup a warm serving of pure deliciousness. Most people associate chicken soup with some what of a medicine for a cold or the flu. It tends to make everyone feel better and happy very fast. However, my family tradition doesnt exactly see chicken soup as only a way to make one feel better. Chicken soup for us is like a rope that ties us together and an exhibit of memories. It takes every busy life style and brings them all to the same table and releases memories of family, childhood and struggle.
Every Sunday, since I can remember, my family had their own little tradition of having chicken soup for lunch after they came back from church. It was a tradition that my moms family followed also, and the chicken soup recipe was also passed down from generations. Looking at the picture of the chicken soup doesnt seem to show anything important, but if you look into your mind and connect it with chicken soup it just might.
This soup is what brought me and my parents together. We all lived busy lives and couldnt sit down together for dinner during the week except for Sundays. Sundays were a day of relaxation and chicken soup. The three of us would enjoy our chicken soup and quality time. It brought us closer and made us happier, not by the taste but by how it connected us more and more each Sunday. Our quality time and chicken soup couldnt be replaced by anything on Sundays, but in certain circumstances when it did, it wasnt a Sunday to us. Chicken soup simply defined our Sundays.
Memories also float through my mind as I sit down and eat my chicken soup. Memories of Poland, of my family and now, most importantly, of my daddy. February 6, 2012 my dad passed away and half of me went with him. Sundays used to not be the same without chicken soup, but now Sundays arent the same without my dad. Even though hes gone every Sunday lunch I feel like hes really there with us. That chicken soup reminds me of him, of how happy we all were as a family, of how close we were, and that he will always be with me. He might not be there physically, but hes certainly there spiritually and thats exactly what I see in that bowl of chicken noodle soup. Every noodle is a memory, every vegetable is a struggle and the liquid is what keeps everything together to make us, us.
Most people will look at this picture and have no response, but I do, and I believe that everyone would too if they looked deep enough passed the obvious. People must have some kind of connection with chicken soup, some memory that is brought up by even the slightest thought of chicken soup. This picture can relate to any kind of audience, whether they think of a cure for a cold or something much, much more deeper and meaningful. A health dose of homemade chicken soup always hits the spot.