Grilled Cheese Memories

I made a grilled cheese sandwich today -
first time in forever -
Just had a hankering for that
warm gooey cheesy buttery-ness.
I used the bread heels, because I’m an adult
and they needed to be eaten.
But in a moment of whim and nostalgia
I cut it into triangles
and then for good measure
poured a glass of cold milk to drink.

And there she was –
backed by sunshine through the curtain
soft rock hits crooning from the wall radio…
Never sitting, incessantly wiping harvest gold countertops
with that smelly cloth –
You learn not to get food on your face
when threatened with a cloth like that.
And there were ashtrays full of lipsticked butts
and a referee whistle on the windowsill
to call the feral children in for lunch.

She always called me “sniffles”
and helped us sew beanbag frogs
and tolerated the real frogs too
and it never once occurred to me to wonder
about her life the moment we stepped out the door.

She was simply
there
my “other mother”
so different from my own
All glamour and lipstick and sinus-clogging smoke
and would still be
there
when we returned.

Until she wasn’t.

Now, from the back side of childhood,
having learned more of her truth
and having tasted struggles of my own,
I see her coping
Her brave face
And above all her sacrifice;
my oblivion, a hard-won gift -
For whatever screams she may have felt inside,
all I ever felt was
cherished.