Channeling Maurine

Maurine and Milton Freeman with all their grandchildren
in 1983; seven more would follow

Working in the kitchen, chatting with Desireé.  She's making chocolate chip cookies for Alora's baptism on Saturday.  I'm cutting up a cantaloupe for dinner.  I halve it, clean it, slice it into wedges, then make vertical slices through the flesh, just to the rind but not through it.  Then, I slice off the rind and bite-size pieces of fruit fall into the bowl.  I'm well-practiced.  It's fast work.  Just like my "mom" showed me.

My husband's mother has been gone for more than nine years now.  She hasn't lived with us in twelve, but her presence in this house can be almost palpable.  It happens most when I'm with my daughters-in-law, when we're working together, when we're laughing and chatting, or when I am sharing some skill she taught me.  I want to be for them what Maurine was to me.