Barb left Earth in a leopard nightie and woke up fully clothed in glory.
That’s how my mother-in-law rolled.
When she bounced into a room bearing a plate of freshly baked banana bread, we all wanted what she brought to the party.
Her baking filled our stomachs, but Barb filled our souls.
When times were hard, and hearts and wallets empty, she’d point to all the people around us and remind us of the wealth we had.
“Count your blessings,” she repeated over and over.
She ruled our family from her kitchen table with an addictive cackle and a coffee-cup scepter. For 84 years, she reigned like the queen she was.
To this day, I can picture her sitting there.
When someone lives so generously and leaves so abruptly, their memory lingers. So does their love.
Barb’s love lives on in all of us. Part of that love is kept safe in a pinewood recipe box.
It sits on my shelf stuffed full with newspaper clippings from years gone by and recipe cards splashed with gravy.
The other day, her four-year-old great-granddaughter was talking about Gigi, spotted the box, and decided to take a peek.
She pulled her favorite recipe out and traced Gigi’s faded blue ink loops with a reverent finger.
“Mmmm. Banana bread. Let’s make some!”
So we did.
We didn’t have all the right ingredients. Some crucial instructions were missing, but we did our best.
In the end, it didn’t taste like Gigi’s, but we had fun cleaning the bowl and licking our fingers. We even dumped in some extra cinnamon because we both like it that way.
That’s how a legacy of love works.
We follow someone else’s recipe, but in the shaking, measuring, and mixing of life, it becomes our own.
Like Gigi’s faded blue loops left behind, our love is our final signature.
Barb didn’t create the recipe of love. Her love began with her Creator, who passes it down through generations.
“I lavish unfailing love for a thousand generations on those who love me and obey my commands.” (Exodus 20:6, NLT)
Since God is love Himself, He generously loved the world by giving His only Son.
And before Jesus reentered God’s glory, He left His signature at the cross, signed in redeeming love.
Our love won’t be perfect like His, but we can trace God’s love back to the cross. There, we taste true goodness that fills us till we overflow.
We must receive Christ’s love before we can pass it down. Turns out that’s the secret ingredient of every good legacy.
By receiving God’s love through Jesus, we receive all we need to make our own recipe and keep love going.
Some days require a little dash of humor. Other days we search the cupboard on our knees to find some peace.
When God supplies the love, we no longer need exact measurements.
So, throw up your hands, let Him stir your heart and splatter the walls and people around you with grace.
Love is messy like that.
You can clean up later.
Love in this moment. And like Barb, love your people with all you’ve got.
Then trust God and time to do the rest, sometimes long after you’ve left the kitchen.
One day, we’ll trade our leopard nighties for glory.
But God’s love and that banana bread recipe aren’t going anywhere.
We’re meant to taste the goodness now and leave both recipes for the next generation to find.
In loving honor of Barbara M. White, aka “Hot Barb”
November 6, 1940 – August 30, 2025