If Bud had come home at the end of the war there would have been lots of celebration and rejoicing. Food, drink, laughing, dancing, (and possibly some God-awful singing, too!), but most certainly, cake. Mama’s cake.
Instead the Western Union messenger came. And there was no celebration or rejoicing. And no cake.
So today, after we sit down with our Army representative to get a report on Bud’s deaths and make arrangements for getting him home soon and his funeral, there will be cake. Her cake…for her boy.

Gulp! Her boy indeed. All of this makes me stop, as a mother of a “boy” and try to feel what momma, papa and his siblings felt. Thank you for “bringing it home” to all of us. XO
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A very touching blog that does great honor to Bud. Not forgotten indeed. As for the cake, Liz’s cake was well known among the Mahan’s as well for its celebratory powers. From what I heard, Liz never used a recipe and so our copy of the recipe is from what your Dad reconstructed. Thanks for undertaking this, a reminder again to value family and family time together and not to wait for wakes and funerals. Thanks.
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Thank you, Kieran! She also never used a Kitchen Aid mixer! She must have been beating with that wooden spoon for days!
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I love stumbling upon more stories. I didn’t know you were writing this blog. 😭❤😭❤
Wonderful writing Anmarie!
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