Back in February, I had lost the family matriarch and the last of my grandparents.

My Grandmother, Jeannette Arsenault, was 90 years old and spent her entire life in Fall River. She had the patience of one thousand Gods and the skillset to cook from scratch. Especially "good mood" food.

Just when I thought I had nothing left than the memories, my mother surprised me with something pretty special.

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It was Easter Sunday and my fiancé and I made our way over to my parent's house in Westport. Upon arrival, the first thing my eyes went to was the impressive spread of food that filled the kitchen countertops and table. I had already eaten lunch, but there was always room for one more plate in my book.

There was ham, deviled eggs, corn, turkey, appetizers, buns, and the list goes on and on. As I loaded up my plate with a little of everything, I noticed that mashed potatoes had a slightly different coloration than what my mother normally puts out, so I assumed she picked up a store-brand pre-made box or something.

After one bite, I knew immediately that these weren't just any mashed potatoes; this was my grandmother's recipe. I could point it out if there were 50 other bowls of mashed potatoes beside it. I could taste the perfectly blended butter and salt, whipped together with real potatoes (none of that instant garbage).

Right away, nostalgia smacked me in the face and took over my senses.

My mother had told me that before my grandmother had passed, she had given her the recipe our family has loved for decades. What a delicious blessing in disguise and a wonderful way to keep my grandmother's mashed potato legacy alive. It's being safeguarded by my mom and perhaps one day, I'll get the honor to pass the recipe down to future generations of my own.

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