• lenten journal: symbol

    by  • March 15, 2016 • family, grief, lenten journal, poetry • 2 Comments

    Today marks two months since my mother died. This poem found me today.


    the old cast iron skillet
    has soaked up a cookbook
    of stories, handed down
    from Grandma to you
    and then to me.
    just salt—no soap—
    to clean it; i run my hand
    around the side and I
    feel the soft oil that has
    seasoned the metal,
    remnants of memories
    and meals, fried chicken,
    and bacon by the pound.
    these days it feels as heavy
    as my grief, even as I scoop
    the saved bacon grease
    back and watch it melt
    in the gentle heat of
    the gas burner. I lay the
    strips in the skillet one
    by one, and the room
    smells like family,
    like joy—complete when
    Ginger takes a bite
    and says, “This is almost
    as good as your mom’s.”



    Blogging since December 2005


    2 Responses to lenten journal: symbol

    1. March 15, 2016 at 10:52 pm

      Milton, when Katherine married and later when Missy married, at their kitchen showers I was able to give each one of them an iron skillet that had been one of their grandmothers’. I don’t remember which girl got whose skillet, and, in fact, I think I did that on purpose. People at those showers were amazed that they were pleased to have a family heirloom of an iron skillet. Mattered not about the other people, just that the girls were quite pleased to get it.

    2. Jill Calder
      March 16, 2016 at 12:56 pm

      Milton, it has been a little over 5 months that we lost my precious mother. Not
      a day goes by that I don’t smile and thank God for her precious life of faith and unconditional love, but never more than when I make her monkey bread, divinity, fudge squares, green enchiladas, or pull out my iron skillet. God blessed many of us with precious mothers. May their faith live on through us.
      God bless you. May the peace of Christ be with you. Jill

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