1/7: Spice It With Love, Stir It With Care.
“Brew me a cup for a winter’s night.
For the wind howls loud and the furies fight;
Spice it with love and stir it with care,
And I’ll toast our bright eyes,
my sweetheart fair.”
~ Minna Thomas Antrim (1861 – 1950) Philadelphia writer
Today I am thinking about my mom.
This is the 20th anniversary of her death day. And yes, it still hurts.
I still feel her around sometimes, and I think about her most every day.
I ask myself what she would do, in situations where I feel stuck, and I cook her favorite meals from time to time to bring her closer for that little while.
I miss her.
My mother was one who always did, indeed, “Spice it with love, and stir it with care.”
I thought of her right away when I read this poem.
Brew a cup, spice it up, stir it around, and a toast to bright eyes.
Bingo. Love you, Mom.
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