I stand in the kitchen on Easter morning preparing stuffing for the turkey I will roast later today. I use a simple recipe–not a recipe at all really–just a mixing of the same ingredients that my mom, and her mom before her, used.
It’s been thirty years since I had stuffing prepared by my mom. Over the course of those thirty years I have prepared a multitude of turkey dinners complete with stuffing and all of the trimmings. Every time I prepare the stuffing Mom is in the kitchen with me and a melancholy falls over me as I miss her presence in my life and grieve for the lost years.
The hands I see mixing the dry bread crumbs with chopped onion, melted butter, sage, poultry seasoning, salt and pepper, are her hands. I wonder when my hands became hers. A piece I wrote a few years ago comes to mind. I thought I’d share it here today.
I wish for you a happy and blessed Easter. He is risen! He is risen, indeed!