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Remembering My Mother

May 9, 2013

I sit on the counter and watch my mother scurry from fridge to cupboard to pantry, gathering the ingredients of life in her bony hands and depositing them on the faded yellow Formica beside me. She measures each item carefully, smiling and singing, pouring and stirring. A cloud billows as she adds the flour. The particles hang in the air, floating in the golden spotlight streaming through the window at my back. I breathe the stale dust deep into my lungs; harboring a piece of my mother’s work inside me forever.

The sound of sifting sugar and a scraping spoon brings me back to her hands. Slender fingers swiftly working the spatula around the curved edge of the bowl. Next she gathers the eggs from their soft home, cradling them in a towel before spilling their life with a quick hand. Vanilla is splashed beside them—a stain spreading through the snowy slush. The scent lingers on the back of my tongue. Its sweet warmth closes my eyes and lifts my spirit.

The heat of the oven surrounds us. My ears are full of her songs, my heart full of her love. I watch in wonder as she creates something from nothing. The same way she made me.

With a smile in her eyes and a song on her lips, breaking the bread of life for her family, that is how I remember my mother.

* * * * *

To this day, baking takes me back to those days on the counter watching my mother work. Happy Mother’s Day, Momma. I love you!

My Monster and My Mom

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18 Comments leave one →
  1. May 9, 2013 9:47 PM

    Made me smile. I’m blessed with a wonderful, supportive and creative mother, too. Also, I could go for some bread of life.

  2. May 9, 2013 11:45 PM

    Beautiful piece Danni! It is wonderful to have such a supportive mother, something I never experienced. Mine could only find fault with me.

    • May 10, 2013 12:15 PM

      i’m so sorry to hear that, Helen. I am so blessed and don’t know what I’d do without her.

  3. May 10, 2013 4:53 AM

    LOL, this is familiar, I used to love watching my Mum bake and the best bit was getting to lick the bowl out. On the cake front I really miss my Gran’s she was a bake by eye kind of woman and they were out of this world.

    • May 10, 2013 12:18 PM

      I rarely eat what I bake because I get to eat the bits left in the bowl and on the spoon. :)

  4. May 10, 2013 5:47 AM

    Wonderful piece, Danni! Some of my best memories of time spent with my mom are from the kitchen as well.

  5. May 10, 2013 7:24 AM

    Making a gingerbread boy? This was a fine little story, either way. And the pic at the end just puts the exclamation point on it all. ;-)

  6. May 10, 2013 9:26 AM

    Beautiful, Danni!

  7. May 10, 2013 12:00 PM

    Oh, Dani- this was achingly beautiful! That langage perfectly captured the scenses and the emotions behind the memory and played them out like a lullaby.

    And so ecstatic to see you back in action, by the way! We’ve missed you!

    • May 10, 2013 12:19 PM

      Thanks, Bev! I’m hoping to be back a little more often than this. :)

  8. May 10, 2013 1:46 PM

    Excellent story, and a great tribute to your mom for Mother’s Day. You described everything so well!

  9. May 10, 2013 2:27 PM

    I smiled like John, then cried like a baby.. a full range of emotions in a flash.. beautiful work as always Danielle.. My wife lost her mum last month….so thank you..

    • May 16, 2013 10:33 PM

      I’m so sorry to hear that Tom. What a difficult Mother’s Day. Thank you so much for taking the time to stop by and comment.

  10. May 10, 2013 4:01 PM

    This is so lovely…makes me miss my mom. Great story.

  11. adampb permalink
    May 10, 2013 5:04 PM

    Lovely recollection.
    Adam B @revhappiness

  12. May 12, 2013 2:23 AM

    Aw, such a beautiful piece!

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