For The Flour On The Counter

Mom, I still think about you making chicken and dumplings in the kitchen, with flour spread across the granite counters and paper football somehow happening right there while dinner was coming together.

When I was a kid, that just felt like home. Now I understand more of what was inside it: your care, your warmth, and the way you could make life feel safe without making it serious all the time.

As tomorrow gets close, I am praying for your peace, your body, your doctors, and everyone caring for you. We are in healing mode with you now, slow and steady, and I love you so much.