I had the most wonderful grandma ever. She was good and kind and white-haired, just like grandmas are supposed to be. But I swear in another time my Grandma McCauley would have been a shaman or a druid. Her pale, blue eyes saw so much, even after they were covered with cataracts; and she had a wisdom that was almost other-worldly, yet so connected to the earth. Actually, the first image of Grandma that comes to mind is in the garden; she was an organic farmer long before that was cool. But I also remember her making the most wonderful homemade bread, and when I recently made the loaf pictured below my thoughts went to her.
Smell
the warm
crusty bread
my offering
fresh from the oven
kneading, resting, rising
I become my grandmother
standing in her warm, safe kitchen
we are communion through time and space
generously passing out bread and love
Smell the warm crusty bread, my offering
Something so comforting and viscerally joyous about baking bread. Even evoking memories of previous loaves and bakers. Thank you for expressing that so sweetly, Mary.
ReplyDeleteThanks Joe!
ReplyDeletethis is heart warming..
ReplyDeletehow are you?
join us if you can.
love your work.
Wonderful tale, Mary.
ReplyDeleteYou carry your grandmother forward in your heart and mind - the very essence of what 'family' means.
What a lovely tribute this is Mary.
ReplyDeleteWow been a while since I came to give a cheer
ReplyDeleteBeen quite busy I fear
And although food really isn't my thing
This post had a nice ring
So from there is my little chat
Before I scat
From Pat
With the Last name Hatt
And the annoying cat
Who you want to squash flat
PPL - Thank you, I'll try.
ReplyDeleteEric - thanks for you kind words
Ginny - Thank you :o)
Oh Pat, you crazy cat
thanks for cheching in
did you wonder where I'd been?
hmm - can almost smell it..such sweet memories and such a good reminder of how life, family and love can taste
ReplyDeleteThanks Claudia! It was pretty tasty :o)
ReplyDelete