For The Flour On The Counter

Mom, I still think about the kitchen when you would make 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 thought it was fun and good food. Now I see more of what was really there. You were making home feel warm, playful, and safe all at once. You had a way of turning ordinary care into something I could actually feel.

Today I am praying for you in this healing season. Slow, steady, protected, and loved is enough. I love you so much, Mom, and I hope that same comfort you gave me comes back around you gently today.