This week I bring you a . . .
I miss my mom most at Thanksgiving.
I thought of her this morning, as I was peeling potatoes. And I got a bit teary; a bit melancholy. (There was an . . . incident . . . involving potato peelings and a not-so-great garbage disposal and Trouble in a Small Kitchen that was very funny back in the mid-90s.) (And we never let her forget it.) You really never know when grief will rear its head.
Today is Thursday. I'm grateful for memories that bring comfort. Even when they also bring tears.
On days like today, I find poetry to be especially comforting. Here's one that suits my state of mind . . . from one of my favorite poets.
What Came to Me
I took the last
dusty piece of china
out of the barrel.
It was your gravy boat,
with a hard, brown
drop of gravy still
on the porcelain lip.
I grieved for you then
as I never had before.
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you who celebrate.
And a special hug to all of you who may . . . need one today.
Today's poem is from my copy of Jane Kenyon: Collected Poems, pulished in 2005 by Graywolf Press.