My Grandma Marie passed away in 1982. But I had a visit with her today. Together we did what we used to do together. We baked.

As I write, I have a Raw Apple Cake baking away in the oven. Autumn scents of apples, cinnamon and mace, bound together with a little sugar and a little flour, is making an aroma that is simply divine.

Here in Seattle, we ended an 82-day dry record, it's Friday, and my husband is ending a long week spent on business in Canada. He will be so delighted when he walks into our kitchen. And I'm expecting my son to bound down the stairs any minute demanding food, proclaiming himself famished. Smile. (Yep ... just happened).

Familiar. Comfort. Warm. Rich.

That is autumn to me.

When is the last time you cooked or baked something according to a handwritten recipe? Okay ... here's another. When is the last time you actually wrote out a recipe? If you're like me, it's probably been awhile. Magazines, cookbooks ... Pinterest ... truthfully, it is so much more convenient.

Online; I shop, send recipes and shopping lists to my phone, save family favorites virtually and rarely print or save electronically. It's our fast-paced world.

But today ... today I remembered why printed recipe cards can be so meaningful. What if my grandmother had access to all that we have today? Would she have taken time to write recipe cards? I don't know. But if she hadn't, I wouldn't have had my visit with her today.

Tears gathered in my eyes as I read her words, lovingly followed along a very narrative kind of recipe. I could "hear" her speaking. And I had a visit with a grandmother that understood me more than most people. We shared so many similar traits. Shyness, in particular. And because of that recipe card, we had a connection, thirty years later.

You know, most of us will never really know the impact our life has on others. The neighbor, the friend, the child ... the acquaintance who saw something of themselves in us. If we don't leave something tangible for those coming up behind us ... way off in the distant future (smile), all that is left is memory. And as we know, that can be fleeting.

Take time to leave something tangible, a hard copy reminder of your life. Whether it be journals, or memoirs ... or even a recipe card.

My son and even my husband never had the pleasure of meeting my Grandmother Marie. But tonight ... tonight through her recipe, they will see a glimpse of her. They will experience something that was so important to her. And in a small way, they will have a connection to her as well.

All because of a little recipe card.