For The Kitchen Kind Of Love

Mom, I keep thinking about chicken and dumplings in the kitchen, flour spread over the granite counters, and somehow paper football showing up right in the middle of dinner coming together.

As a kid, I probably just thought it was fun and good food. Now I see more clearly what you were giving me. You made care feel warm and playful at the same time. You made home feel like a place where I could be fed, laugh, and feel completely safe.

Today I am praying that same warmth surrounds you while you heal. Slow and steady is enough. I love you so much, Mom, and I hope you feel held, protected, and loved all through this day.