Passages

Last year my dad passed away and this month my mom passed away. Here is what I wrote about my mom  for her service: 

Mom

The whir of a sewing machine

The crackle of frying chicken

The sizzle of lace cornbread

This was the background music of our childhood.  

A scoop of flour

A chunk of butter

a cup of buttermilk

A pinch of salt

Mom taught us to make something out of nothing. 

When I was a teenager I had a favorite dress. Mom traced the seams of the dress onto paper and made a copy of the dress for me. 

We still talk about the chicken she grilled decades ago on an old refrigerator rack supported by concrete blocks. Common kitchen ingredients became masterpieces in her hands. 

Mom taught us to make something out of nothing. 

Mom struggled at times in her life. She had to start over and take the helm in raising four rambunctious kids as a single parent. It was not easy. But in those times, she created islands of respite around a kitchen table laden with the beautiful work of her hands.