Mother, illness, and cure all that ails you, chicken soup.

Yesterday I phoned my 82 year old mother who lives a block and a half away. We are friends and we have a lot in common. (Not just genes.) Physically, I am starting to look more and more like her!  (Not a bad thing.) She dresses and comports herself well.
Attire and appearance were important in our home. When I was young, I recall she would change out of her daytime dress and put on her Shalimar and dress for dinner! Sometimes we would be eating macaroni and cheese but there she would be dressed for my father's arrival, home from the office!
I could write for hours about my mother as she has had many challenges during the course of her lifetime. She has somehow managed to rise above these and come out on top with style.

But I digress, she has a cold. I could tell the minute that she answered the phone, that raspy sound in her voice gave it away. She, being who she is, shrugged it off and said no she was fine, just a little tickle and another cup of tea would take care of it. I was not to worry, don't come over...and no that chicken soup that I suggested was not needed but she could use a new novel. (We share the love of reading and I supply the books.)
As I hung up the phone I knew exactly what I was going to do...I pulled the chicken stock out of the freezer and started dicing celery and onions...(I buy organic free range chickens locally and I make stock after roasting them. The flavor is amazing!)
I sauteed the onions and celery, added the stock and simmered until it melted and was hot. I seasoned it with herbal salt and seaweed add some dry noodles and cooked it until the noodles were soft. Poured it into a jar and zipped over to mom's. I let myself in as I have a key and there she sat, elegantly wrapped in her pashmina, dressed in black pants and a black and white top, pearls, rings and bling...to the observer one would never know that she was ill. As she sipped her tea, (china teacup) I put the soup on to simmer.
She really didn't want the fuss, but was grateful that I had bothered. I didn't stay long, as she would need to rest her voice and maybe snooze in her chair.
I called later and she had enjoyed 2 bowls of soup and was into one of the books.
She mentions again how I spoil her and that I am too good to her, but I do not feel that way, it just feels right to give back to her some of what she has given me over the years.