Pie Crust

May 11, 2022

It all started with the neighbor’s rhubarb

“Would you like some?” “Oh, yes … I love rhubarb”

Childhood memories of late summer stalks, sun-drenched bitter goodness

And an entire grocery bag full was handed over the fence.

 

Until that day, flour had never dusted my counter.

Mom was the pie maker – and a fierce competitor.

I stayed in my lane.

Perfected chocolate chip cookies

(The ones Dad liked.)

She stayed in hers –

…pies, homemade cinnamon rolls, gidgy-gadgets, pineapple upside down to die for…

Cookies were for rookies.

 

There it was right in front of me –

an opportunity to check off a bucket-list item:

Make a pie crust from scratch

…and fill it with this late summer, perfectly ripe rhubarb.

Dare I?

 

She’s been gone for over three years now.

I took a picture of that first pie…shimmery golden crust, fresh from the oven.

Shared it with the neighbors – it was delicious!

 

She sewed my prom dresses without a pattern.

I won’t mend a hem.

Mother-daughter relationships can be complicated.

Even still.

Unfathomable Moments: Part III

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