Mommas Apron

I have my Mommas apron an today.
When I was four I sat in the back of Her cafe on an old day bed and played. Momma would always cook with a smile on her face and sweat on her brow. I think it must of pleased her to see all the folks enjoy her fixings. She grew to weary over time and her talents failed her in her later years. She was just all used up. So little made her smile or should I say she could smile at such little things like my daughters glowing eyes or the sight of her own grown children gathered around her on those few rare occasions.

My memories of her are few that are sweet and so today making my soup I cry thinking if only she could of had another life one that might of been rich to her with kindness in her own childhood.

I think she would smile at me making her old chicken soup, just like she did to serve to so many. Some day I will write those stories so full of the terrors and woe but today I think Ill just smile and wipe the sweat off my brow, enjoy the smell of this chicken soup.