For The Flour On The Counter

Mom, I still think about the kitchen when you were making chicken and dumplings, with flour spread over the granite counters and paper football somehow showing up right in the middle of dinner coming together.

As a kid, I probably just felt like that was home. Now I understand how much love was inside those ordinary scenes — food, play, mess, and comfort all happening at once because you made room for it.

I hope today feels steady and kind to you as you keep recovering. I love you, Mom, and that warm kitchen feeling is still one of the ways I know what home means.