May 15, 2023

It was fresh apple pie and wild roses on back roads; the clunky vacuum standing lonely in the hallway and August school supplies at the local Ben Franklin; iced glass bottles of Coca Cola and dirtied bare feet in the local grocery; bone china egg cups and crisped toast and mugs of cocoa on the neighbor’s stoop as we waited for the bus; the year after he became sick when she made pans of hot homemade granola, pulling them from the oven in her forever house robe and apron; the countless prayers, admonitions about the trustworthy status of cats and the piano; the Steinway in all the glory of old ivory and antique strings as we lay on the carpet underneath the piano, listening as her short strong fingers flew over the instrument, transporting us to other centuries and different lives and future dreams. All this and more…have made her Mother…