Remembering My Mama at Christmastime
Honoring our rituals is perhaps the best medicine for a broken heart
By Monique Fields in Zora/Medium
A few weeks before Christmas in 2002, lung cancer won, and I lost Mama. What remains are the memories I shared with her and all of the love she poured into me.
The scent of collard greens, seasoned with smoked ham hocks, is enough to send me back to Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year’s. If only I could taste those greens again. I loved Mama’s greens so much I couldn’t wait for them to cook. I often tiptoed into the kitchen for a sample. As soon as I lifted the lid off the pot, Mama called my name and let me know I hadn’t been as quiet as I had thought. Sometimes she would give me a taste; sometimes she kicked me out of the kitchen. CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE
Drawing Credit: Tim Ganey, BBC Art
