Recipe: Buttermilk Pecan Coffee Cake

By Stacey LittleSouthern Bite

I could see my mom mouthing something to me as I backed down the driveway. I rolled my window down. “Watch out for my angels,” she said. I waved, said “I will,” and drove away.

I was 16, had gotten my license that morning, and was on my way to freedom. It was the first time in my car all by myself. But I knew what was expected of me. Mom had said that phrase a million times before. “Watch out for my angels.” She said it every time I left the house.

When I was a little kid, she once told me that even though I have my own guardian angels, I was so important to her that when I was away from her, she’d send her guardian angels to protect me, too. It was her way of saying “be careful.”It became our thing. She was always good about it otherwise, but it was another sweet way for her to tell me that she loved me. Over the years, I bet she’s said it to me a hundred thousand times or more. And it didn’t stop as I grew older. I’m still her baby and I still have to watch out for her angels oftentimes.

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