i never wear an apron
like you did
don't shell peas
don't grind coffee beans by hand
or make fresh mayonnaise
anymore
i still marinate my own olives
remove all the stalk from the parsley
flatten the garlic with my hands
make all your recipes
and remember how to test a mango for sweetness
still use your battered little red saucepan
and i always have a cactus on the kitchen window sill
just like yours to remind myself of what it is like to have known
a truly generous selfless and loving human being
miss you darling
Sherry's mid- weekend challenge...Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads
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The ending is so poignant..treasured memories and feelings really resonate in this poem
ReplyDeleteThis is so sweet, so full of love. The little red saucepan particularly touched me.
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother used to wear an apron in her kitchen and her garden. She carried pruning shears and a weeder. She had a vegetable garden and a flower garden. My favorite were the roses
ReplyDeleteI still adore them today. I don't think she was fond of cooking though. Her love was the flowers. She had my grandfather build on a room that she called her "plant room". I remember so many plants and when she became ill we would take turns going there to tend the plants and I remember watering the plants with watering eyes. (sigh)
Funnily enough, I never used to wear an apron, but I do now! I love to shell peas but don’t have the time to grind coffee beans or make fresh mayonnaise either. I admire you for marinating olives, Rall – no fresh ones in our part of the world – I love olives! I also have a cactus on the windowsill! Your ending is gentle and loving.
ReplyDeleteOh, an apron! Yes, my grandma always did, and I never do. (We with the luxury of automatic washers and dryers.) I love the cactus on the windowsill, in memory. Generous, selfless and loving.........such beautiful traits our grandmas had. Sigh. This was so lovely to read, Rall.
ReplyDeleteWords are going to be hard to come by here for expressing how much this impacted me. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteOh, what a treasure you were given. I love the beauty of carrying on traditions, little warm spots of love and history.
ReplyDeleteBrings me more memories, Rall. Mine made pickles in huge white pottery piece, yours sounds like she might have done that too. I like her having a cactus plant in her window. Mrs. Jim's mother kept an aloe vera plant. I have a piece of that still growing on my back porch. It reminds me of her, she's been on my blog a lot before she died.
ReplyDelete..
So wonderful to read your sweet memories. By the way, how do you test the mango for sweetness?
ReplyDeleteHow marvelous for you!
ReplyDeleteoh ... that little red saucepan. I adore everything about this poem.
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