Comfort

I was in need of solace today.  My President decided to comfort me by manhandling a Bible in front of a church; he moved 10,000 peaceful protesters seeking redress of their grievances to do so.  I'm sure some people are impressed by this.  I am not.

I didn't want to hear about federal troops securing the populace (read: property).  I wanted hope and guidance and love and reassurance that, somehow, we will figure this out together.  I didn't need someone with the answers.  I needed someone willing to engage the conversation, with an open heart and a hug whenever necessary.

I needed my Mommy.  

I didn't want a picture.  I wanted to spend time with her.  I took out her recipe for Stuffed Cabbage (Holishkes) and started to smile before the index cards were settled on the counter.

She kept her recipes in a metal card box, with alphabetical separators and smudges of meals gone by.  If you look closely, you can see her smiling as she notices the tomato stains on the ones she wrote for me, many decades ago. And if you read them, you can hear her, too.  

Only an educated woman could combine squish and mush and come up with squoosh 

which is exactly the sound the mixture makes as it squooshes through your fingers. 

G'ma and I had a good laugh about that.

I blanched cabbage and squooshed the filling and rolled it all up into neat little packets.  They were cooking and now they're simmering and soon they'll be browning. 

Can you smell them? 

G'ma is all around me, embedded in every breath I take, helping me get through a difficult day.  I'm going to follow her advice (see below)  

and hope tomorrow is a better day.