I Peeled a Potato and Randomly Cried For my Dead Mother
Grief is weird
Okay so I didn’t burst into tears, but as I peeled my one lone potato, a flood of memories came over me.
I wished that instead of the fancy OXO peeler I was using, I had a cheap, nasty, stainless one like my mom used when she peeled potatoes like a ninja; if you peeled too fast, it would slice your knuckles off.
I wished I could sit on the porch with her at our beach cottage shucking fresh ears of corn while she sipped a gin and tonic and I waited for the Good Humor ice cream truck.
I wished I could walk into the kitchen just as she pulled her famous baked macaroni out of the oven, so hot that the bubbling cheese was like molten lava. Just like she did when she made it for me the day after I started my period and “became a woman” (eye roll).
I wished I could give her a goodnight kiss on her cheek that smelled like Clinique Dramatically Different Moisturizing Lotion and tasted like science class.
I wished I could hear her telling me “Put on more blush” or asking me "Where are your earrings?” because looks were extremely important to her. I was in high school and very irritated by these inquests.
I wished I could see her walk out the door in her 1980s power suit, with the…
