Billy and August

{Images from my Grandma’s kitchen}

I look around our kitchen. The benches are covered with school notes, work notes, dirty dishes, cameras, empty baby bottles and my eyes immediately are drawn to the teapots that represent I was there.

I walk over to the teapots and smile at the empty teacups along with the ones that are half drunk. They show I was distracted. My need to be somewhere else and not with my teacup. The prettiness of the teacups and pots overwhelm my sense of sight. I heart flowered teacups. For those minutes my mind is lost in these thoughts I am able to ignore the mess that surrounds me.

There is apple and pear boiling on the hot plate waiting to be pureed. Parker is in the highchair and I am multitasking at my best. I am feeding him and navigating Noah through baking a cake.

Mr.Kypo finally has some time to himself and is writing music at the dinning table. I look at him scribbling music notes in a lined music book. The language he is writing I don’t understand. It will translate to me through the emotion I feel when he plays the notes on his guitar. I look forward to hearing what he creates.

Lotus has just called asking if she could stay at her friends for dinner. I tell her yes. I miss her instantly. I am reminded too that she was here. Her Sesame Street t-shirt is on the floor.

I can hear the KitchenAid humming and I look over to Noah watching it spin attentively. ‘Can I lick the bowl Mama?, he asks. ‘Of course you can’, I answer. ‘Licking the bowl is the best bit’. After the words travel out my mouth I can smell the cakes my mum would bake for me. It surprises me that one memory can trigger your senses.

I recall the memory to Noah. I would hover around as she would beat the cake with the beaters, waiting patiently, although I am sure I wasn’t really very patient for her to hand me a beater to lick.

I give Noah the beater from the KitchenAid and I laugh out loud as his tongue wraps around and he licks the chocolate off. He has chocolate all over he face. My heart feels warmth.

There are so many stories in this room, exchanges, moments of the past and the present that allow me to see the beauty that is right in front.

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