I Made Brownies
I made brownies with the Beatles playing in the background, Rubber Soul on Mom’s maple stereo. It was the upstairs apartment by Silverado and the hockey field of the Junior High we both went to. It was full of light from big windows, and it felt safe, like a home.
Mom had a new boyfriend. A nice guy for a change. I still slept with a knife under my pillow that nobody knew about. It was because of her last man, the one that she married.
I made brownies the season that Grandma stayed with us, after the breakup, to make sure Mom was okay. The recipe was from the back of the Hershey’s cocoa can, but I knew it by heart.
I made brownies for the first time when I was ten years old after Mom lost the baby we didn’t know about. It was in Kansas City and no one checked on us that week she stayed locked in her room. When her husband was gone and Grandma was busy and nobody came to make sure we were okay.
I made brownies and we ate them for breakfast all week watching cartoons. She wouldn’t answer when we knocked on her door. We lined up our stuffed animals on the sofa. So we wouldn’t cry anymore I made it normal. I made brownies.
Day Ten: Happy (Insert Special Occasion Here)!
Today’s Prompt: Tell us something about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.
Free free to focus on any aspect of the meal, from the food you ate to the people who were there to the event it marked.
Today’s twist: Tell the story in your own distinct voice.
You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.
– Anne Lamott,