I've been tagged by my friend.
Here are 8 things I think about my kitchen.
1. First of all it's a pain in the hiney because sometimes it's full of dishes,
boxes, odd food containers, looks like this...
...and has to be cleaned.
Yes, I'm well aware that I have no shame.
2. It's the room that has THE Window.
You know, the one that you go to when you need to check on the kids, open it to yell at them...
"That's Enough Of That!"
"Don't EAT the worm!"
The usual random mom things.
3. THAT window is the place where I watch my only public schooled child wait for his ride to school.
He waves, I wave, our friends come by, pick him up and they wave.
4. It's the room where I taught Brise to cook. It's where he bakes his brownies
from scratch and we gather on grocery day to lay out the bags, put food away,
cut up the meat packages into smaller portions to freeze.
It's where the pizza boxes stay while the portions are shared and Kazz steals pepperoni from the top.
5. It's the room with the bar stools.
Kids and parents sit at the table-ish area, chat while another cooks or prepares a meal.
That is the counter space for the fruit and snack basket. Nibble, nibble, chat, chat.
6. It's the room with the medicine cabinet.
Child after child, mom and dad alike have stood or sat in that room, feverish, coughing, being held and loved, swallowing medicine from a caring hand, waiting for the thermometer to stop rising.
7. It's the round about room.
There is a door to go down the stairs to the playroom/den/outside.
There is a door to go to the hall/bedrooms/living room.
There is a hideaway door, that I always wanted in a home, that leads to the dining room/schoolroom/living room.
It's the room that is accessible to all in the quickest way so...
It's the room the kids rush to when they have skinned their knee, Where they tattle on each other and stand to greet their friends. It's the room where I hug Brian, when he comes home from work, where
the stress fades away and all is right with the world, in that moment.
It's the room all doors lead to and from, the room everyone has seen and used.
8. It's the room where the central phone is located.
It's the room where...
I accepted our youngest children,
Brian learned his father had cancer,
Brian talked at length with our young neighbor about what to expect when he found that his father, too was diagnosed with the same kind of cancer.
...In the end our neighbor boy's father passed away in exactly the same way Brian's father did...on the floor in their own kitchens.
The kitchen...it's where my grandma made coffee, trying to comprehend that her husband had passed away in the night, waiting quietly while her children slept,
waiting for the men to arrive to carry him away.
The kitchen is the place people go for comfort, even in death.
Somehow we all end up in the kitchen when we need to be cared for.
In the end, our most valued memories are found in the Kitchen.
Life is funny that way.