“You can’t cook just anything in a cast iron pan,” she said gently.
I chuckled, but she didn’t let it go. She sat me down and began to explain.
As I listened, I realized this wasn’t just a lesson in cookware. It was a lesson in care. In respect. In the kind of slow, intentional stewardship that turns ordinary things into lasting ones.
Now, whenever I reach for her skillet, I don’t just see iron. I see her hands, her patience, her stories. I remember that preservation takes effort, and that the things we value — whether cast iron or connection — endure only when we treat them with attention and grace.
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