My mama's chicken pot pie

There is nothing better than my mom's chicken pot pie. It is one of those meals that heals you from the inside out and makes you feel the love and literal warmth of the hands that prepared it. On gloomy, rainy days such as today, here in Nashville, TN, it is the perfect evening for some warm home cookin' inspired by my precious mother. So, with my apron tied and oven mitts on the side, I dove into the fridge for my necessities. I will spare the details of what I did and did not have available according to the recipe, BUT, I came up with a version of my own, that I am sure will please the Sofka household.

As I sit here writing, I am surrounded by the aroma of hot chicken and biscuits baking in the oven, a dim glow overhead my "thinking" chair and the sweet sound of two baby boys sleeping their cares away. Cole is upstairs in his crib, sleeping with a gentle wheeze of his semi-clogged little nose, and Garrett sighs every so often trying to get cozy on the arm of the couch. Both draped in their blankets of choice, I wonder what they are dreaming about this very moment? Are they comforted by the light fragrance of freshly baked bread, or mommy's hazelnut coffee that I brewed just a short time ago? Does it unconsciously comfort them as did the chicken pot pie when I was young? It is the smells of home that take you back to a place in child hood where nothing seems to matter but what was to come in the play yard or what was on the table to eat at meal time. It is this very thing that I pray I can re-create for my sons, just as my mother did for my two brothers and I. As for me and my house, we are having my mothers' chicken pot pie and oh, how wonderful the memory of tonight will be.