Great Memories.

My memories of younger summer-time revolve around toasted marshmallows, backyard pool parties, and midnights with my BFF Karen. Karen died several years ago and when I saw this challenge about my favorite summer food, she entered my mind.

I remember Karen asking me over one day for a sleep-over family gathering. If I had to pick an age I'd say we were around eight or nine.

Karen lived up the street about a quarter of a mile away; my mom packed my bag with a bathing suit(Karen's family had an inground pool), a towel, my asthma medication, and a container of cookies to bring. Mom reminded me to be polite, listen to the adults, and most importantly have a good time.

As I walked up the hill to Karen's house excitement and nervousness ran through me; I loved to swim and at the same time I had never met Karen's family, so I did not know what to expect.

I could hear music, laughter, a dog barking, and water splashing as I made my way down the driveway and through the garage. Opening the door to the patio, I took in the scene; people dancing, others were doing human cannonballs in the pool, and out of the corner of my eye, several bags of marshmallows sat stacked on a table. My nervousness left as Karen's Mom greeted me, her kind eyes taking me in and her gentle voice giving me directions on where to change into my bathing suit. She takes the container of cookies from me leaning down to whisper thank you; and says that she'll see me in a few minutes in the pool.

Over the next few hours everyone is in the pool playing Marco Polo, lounging in the big floaty pool chairs, or diving for coins in the deep end. Then, I hear Karen's dad announcing that the food is ready and for everyone to get out and come and get it! There was everything from barbecued chicken, corn-on-the-cob, green bean salad, pasta salad, brownies, cookies, and more. I ate until my belly was full taking the advice from Karen's mom to wait for our food to digest before swimming again.

I noticed that the marshmallows were left alone and I remember asking Karen about it. Her smile was big as she told me about Midnights and Toasted Marshmallows. Since I had no idea of what she was talking about, I smiled back. She didn't give me details, and instead ran towards the pool to jump back in, to which of course, I followed. Hours passed. Music played, more dancing ensued, and when the sun went down, the pool lights came on. Citronella candles burned and Karen's dad sparked a fire in the fire pit.

Karen tugged at my arm in the pool, pulling me towards the ladder so we could get out. She was excited, pointing at her dad bringing the bags of marshmallows along with long skewers over to the fire pit. As we towel dried, Karen's mom brought us big sweatshirts to put on. I have no idea where the sweatshirts came from; all that mattered was that they were warm, soft, and went down to my knees.

Her dad opened the marshmallows and placed two on each skewer, handing one to Karen and me as we sat in the lounge chairs around the fire pit. Then, he shows us how to achieve the perfect toasted marshmallow; lightly brown and caramelized on the outside, and warm and melty-soft on the inside. He instructs us to watch as he turned the skewer in incremental movements, and I'm mesmerized. I've had toasted marshmallows before, but not like this. Karen's dad made toasting marshmallows an ART. He said it's all about patience and paying attention to detail so that the perfect toasted marshmallow has space to grow.

When it is our turn to toast our marshmallows, the sky is dark, and the rest of the family has gone inside to retire. I remember Karen asking what time it is and her mom answering with a slight grin, it's around midnight sweetie.

As I place my skewer above the flame, Karen places hers next to mine and we sit there, together toasting the perfect marshmallows, not saying a whole lot and I wonder what the big deal is about midnight and toasting marshmallows. I mean, marshmallows are marshmallows, right?

Karen then reveals to me how much it meant to her that my mom agreed for me to spend time with her. You see, Karen was sick and her family set up midnights in the summer around the fire pit as a special time for Karen to spend with people she felt connected. Karen chose me as that special person - and asked her parents to let me in. Unfortunately, other friends left her knowing about her illness and not wanting to be around her. Toasting marshmallows (for Karen) was important because of how they took time and patience to grow into something big and beautiful; and she was hoping that our friendship could be like toasting marshmallows.

Over the course of several years, I had the pleasure of sitting around many fire pits with Karen, toasting the perfect marshmallow, never saying too many words and always being in the present moment, and enjoying one another's company.

Karen's lesson for me is a reminder to stop, pause, and enjoy the present moment; and if that can be achieved by sitting around a fire pit toasting caramelized, warm, gooey marshmallows with someone special; to quote Karen, "Fucking Right On.