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.
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