On a recent visit with my family, I was struck by how my sisters and I walked around each other in the kitchen preparing a meal. Without instructions, without any discussions, we just worked together.
We dance the dance of familiarity, my sisters and I, as we move about the kitchen preparing a meal with the ease of long standing habits. This, I think to myself as I help one sister, is a long-term legacy from our mother. This ability to know what and where to move, how to step just so as the other one moves. This far-reaching legacy is a gift our mother gave us; a gift which grows more precious with age, the farther we go from her passing. I stand aside and watch as my one sister cuts the bread and places the slices on a plate, arranging them just so, and look over at another platter my other sister has prepared and see that she has arranged the slices of lunch meat just as I would have, and again watch the thread of commonalities tie us together.
It’s so easy to see we were all taught by the same teacher; our motions mimic and mirror each other. I treasure it and wish our mother could be here for just a moment again. I’d love to say, “Mom, look at us, we’re still together—bound not only by love, but by your teaching.” As I sit back and watch the family, my siblings, listen as they begin to plan a meal, and laugh to myself as each one chimes in with an “I’ll make this,” the other one counters with “I’ll do that.” And I don’t want to leave my brother out of the mix, he is just as much a part of it. When events are planned, on the rare occasions I’m able to join them, I know we will work in concert with each other, each of us dancing our part of the dance, each of us, doing our own little part, each of us, being that integral part of the whole. Each one of us contributing our strengths, our abilities, to make part of the whole, a whole. Each one of us has a specialty, and we all recognize and cherish that and plan meals around it. And yet any one of us can turn our hand to any part of meal, and make it right.
The other night, after a meal shared together, I realized, we now have another generation, dancing the dance, with my great-nephews and niece working in concert together in the kitchen. My mother’s legacy continues, even though she never had the pleasure of meeting these great grandchildren, but oh, how pleased she would have been, to see this continuing beyond her lifetime, and with luck it will continue even beyond.
Bonds that go beyond blood, beyond time, continue with us all.
