Tag: past

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Day 21 of #VerseLove with Stacey Joy: Mama’s Kitchen Poems

Stacey Joy is our host today for the 21st day of #VerseLove. You can read her full prompt here. She inspires us to write Mama’s Kitchen Poems.

Kitchens are oftentimes the heartbeat of a home. They are gathering places and hold memories like no other room in a house. Stacey mentions a recent podcast episode featuring legendary author Judy Blume, finding herself mesmerized by Blume’s memories and stories of her mother’s kitchen. If you are interested in listening to that episode, here is the link. 

Next, Stacey shares the process: Let’s share our memories from our mothers’ kitchens, our own kitchens, or any kitchen that holds memories for you. 

Photo by Klaus Nielsen on Pexels.com

A Lock of Hair

there, hidden in the cakes and pies section

of Mom’s Gold Medal recipe box

with all the family secrets

an unsealed blue envelope

holds tender gold tendrils

~ cherished childhood hair ~

ethereal

long blond strands

of me

steeped

in

love, one

remaining

wisp of a child

blended, kneaded, shaped,

her own recipe for

disaster ~ aproned kitchen

ancestors gather still to check

on this bun baked through all their ovens:

did she fall? did she rise? did she turn out?

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Telling Secrets – The Stafford Challenge Day 51, Slice of Life Challenge Day 7

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers for giving writers inspiration and space to share

Today’s poem is a random line poem, constructed from a line heard or read randomly. My husband is an NCIS fan, and he’s in season 20. I’m usually reading or writing when he’s watching his show. I heard Kasey say she was going to drink a ginger ale (a drink I don’t think she likes). I jotted it down and wrote this random line poem.

Secrets

I'm telling secrets~

I'll give it all (everything)

especially that tacky lamp

~drink a ginger ale

feel the stomach knots untie~

to release the past

these misplaced values

that stood in the way 

of your being

there

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The Past, Present, and Future

Seven years before she died, my mother joined one of my daughters and me on a girls’ trip to Dahlonega, Georgia. My college roommate makes it an annual tradition to take her own mother and daughters to start the season of Christmas shopping the weekend before Thanksgiving each year, so we met them there that year, staying with them in their favorite Smith House suite overlooking the Dahlonega square. It was a magical time of welcoming the Christmas spirit, eating great food, playing dominoes and cards, reading, sleeping past 6 a.m., lingering over coffee, and shopping for those on our lists.

I’m so grateful for that time we had together. Mom knew something was different, and she suspected Parkinson’s Disease long before her official diagnosis came. Her right thumb trembled endlessly, and she found she grew weaker and felt increasingly exhausted in her daily routine, even with her normal daily tasks. I was glad our room was close to the town square so that she could go back and rest when she felt too tired to walk.

We were downstairs in one of the gift shops when Mom’s eyes lit up. She’d spotted the sale sign on Willow Tree items. I was curious about what she’d wanted from the selection, so I followed her over to the table, where she stood admiring the Nativity set.

She bought that basic Nativity set as my Christmas gift that year and added to it for the next several years, giving me a new part of the collection each year. At the time, I was thankful, but not nearly as grateful for that gift then as I am today. The memory of our time together lives on, and this is one gift that I truly cherish because it marks our trip and takes me right back to the place where she found the joy of giving this to me and building it over time. When I admire these pieces, she is right here with me. In this Nativity, I see the past, present, and future.