9.2

In a kitchen filled with smells she

was a large woman, foursquare jaw

surrounding a blocky plain beautiful

face that had strength in it beyond

years. the paring knife operated

ever so deftly in her large rough hands

peeling the thinest of skins away from

potatoes cooked to just perfect

firmness, then shifting to chop rooted

horseradish into a pot whose aromas

could melt membrane.

grandma’s cooking taught patience

and love, perseverance and

practicality. here is fifty cents it is your

allowance for the week, spend it

wisely. I did not understand then that

she gave because my parents were not

able, or that her power could overpower

the quibbles of my home.

I stand at the sink now with paring

knife in hand, an exercise in finesse

and patience and practicality. we will

feast tonight on the potato salad of her

makings. on the attributes

of her soul.

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