When I rinse a jar, I think of her
When I hear the word penuche
When my mother says “I’m just going
to doctor this up,” my grandmother
becomes present
When I make a German’s Chocolate
cake for my son and I can see
her handwriting in the recipe
I’ve scrawled from her
When I fail to make the perfect
pie crust, because no one can
crimp like her
When I receive mail addressed
to my husband, but with a Mrs.
in front of his name, I know
my grandmother approves
When I bowl or when I think
of bowling, I remember Grandma
and Grandpa with their bowling bags
and their league
When I see a Chihuahua or smell
the scent of Phoenix after the rain
I think of Grandma and remember
how she painted the outside of her
house with a two-inch brush
