Special recipes serve up clear connection
My husband looked at me with surprise as I stood before him in tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Your mom died two years ago today, and I used the last of the plastic wrap,” I sputtered. He had been dozing on the couch, and I had woken him to share this information. He was aware of the first fact, not so much the second. “Am I dreaming?” he asked, glancing around the room in confusion. I knew it sounded like a ridiculous thing to cry about, but his mother had given me the giant box of plastic wrap I was referring to. The idea that I had used the last of it on the two-year anniversary of her...
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