My grandmother woke me up this morning. She touched my shoulder and said 'you'll have to find a lid for that pan.' The command was loud enough to make me sit up and, just for a minute, I thought I might be back in my grandparent's house in Albin. The comprehension that it was just a dream was immediate. Just a dream. Maybe because our bedroom in Virginia Beach sits just off the kitchen like the room where I slept in her house. Maybe because the first task on my list this morning was to make an applesauce cake and my grandmother made so many applesauce cakes and I can't bake like she did. Maybe because the grief of her passing just two months ago yesterday still sits like a raw onion. So, I got up while it was still dark and everyone was sleeping and found the apples and a knife and a pot with with a lid and sat in the quiet peeling apples.
The cake finished baking before the house woke up.
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Note to self...do not read this blog at work lest your colleagues catch you weeping.
My beloved grandmother "Ma" passed in 1991 and I still miss her, and I still ask why, and I still wish I'd paid more attention, especially in the garden and the kitchen.
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