Some years ago I was packing the rusks and Mom had come to visit (read check we hadn't lost the plot). In her wisdom she'd always watch quietly and gently, observe and absorb every detail and then either leave with a half baked idea in her head, or ask some (often too close to the bone) questions.
On this occasion she sat in the bakery and watched every move...including me packing rusks for about 3 or 4 hours.
As we were cleaning and tidying up she says to me..."do you always hug every packet before you seal it?"
"Well I guess so. But actually I'm making sure to get as much air out of the packet as possible"
Mom passed just 3 weeks ago. But this memory of her absolute trust and belief in my ability to love and give everything possible will remain with me forever. So will the look of relief on her face when she realised I hadn't completely lost the plot.