Cookbooks and Bibles
An Ordinary Life
My mother lived a life many would call ordinary. She was a faithful wife, a quiet presence, and a devoted mother. She attended church regularly and spent much of her spare time reading books that kept her connected to her deep and unwavering faith.
Ordinary. In today’s world, it almost sounds like a failure: no branding, no curation, no attention-seeking. Everyone wants to be unique, to be recognized. But Mom never worried about being special. She wasn’t interested in standing out. She listened far more than she talked, and she had no interest in polishing a personal brand. Her focus was simpler; to make the people around her feel special.
Transitions
Mom reached a point about four years ago where she could no longer manage life on her own. After some convincing, she agreed to move into our home. Her one condition was that she be allowed to bring all of her “stuff.” That meant some furniture, mementos from a lifetime of quiet living, and shelves upon shelves of books.
She passed away a last year. No headlines, no fanfare. Just a quiet passing from the temporal to the eternal.
In the months since, I’ve slowly begun sorting through what she left behind. The process has been slow, not because of time, but because of meaning. Each item is a small tether between my present and her past. Letting go of her “stuff” has meant learning to hold on in a different way.
I started with the books. Shelf after shelf. And as I worked through them, a pattern emerged. It was one I’d known my whole life, but had never fully appreciated until now.
Cookbooks and Bibles.
Nothing flashy. Nothing curated. But it’s the most fitting summary of who she was.
A Quiet Kind of Love
A woman of deep faith who passed along a strong set of values; the values that helped shape my brothers and me into the men we are. And a woman who baked. She had recipes for nearly everything, especially desserts. Her love for her family was folded into every pie crust and cookie sheet. She didn’t cook for herself. She cooked for others. And through her, we learned to savor the simple things. A homemade meal, a shared moment, a quiet kind of love.
Cookbooks and Bibles.
It doesn’t sound like much.
The Enduring Gift of an Ordinary Life
But in truth, it was everything.
In a world chasing after noise and novelty, she embodied something lasting. She lived a life of small, sacred acts. In her faith and her food, she lived out a quiet philosophy: that love is service, that meaning is found in devotion, and that simplicity is a form of wisdom.
She never asked to be remembered.
But I will remember.
Every time I cook something from one of her recipes.
Every time I pause to reflect instead of rushing toward judgment.
Every time I choose ordinary… and recognize it for the gift that it is.
Rod Price has spent his career in human services, supporting mental health and addiction recovery, and teaching courses on human behavior. A lifelong seeker of meaning through music, reflection, and quiet insight, he created Quiet Frontier as a space for thoughtful conversation in a noisy world.