Day 176-Apron Memories

I lovingly hold the
stained and tattered
apron in my hands
and wrap it about me.

I tie the apron
behind my back
and love the way
it brings forward
memories past.

I see the seasons of
days gone by and
recall them like
they were yesterday.

The springs bring
days of rain and
inside play.
Baking cookies
with my children
until they became
better at it than me.

The summers Dad
dons his apron
to grill hamburgers,
hot dogs, chicken, steak.
Mouth-watering,
hungry children
race from the pool
to feed their faces full.

The fall leaves blow
as we sip our cocoa
and I hug my apron
tight.  We get the
blankets out for story
time snug with whip
cream on our lips
and words in our ears.

Wearing my apron
on winter holidays
when days hold
hours in the kitchen
brings the smell of
turkey in the oven,
the sound of water
boiling sweet potatoes,
the sight of chocolate
melting on the stove.

I wring my hands
on the worn, faded
fabric reminiscing as I
fondly touch the apron
strings that bind now to then.

Our Daughter Jaclyn Wearing Her Apron
Dec 1987

Our Granddaughter Mae Wearing the Same Apron