Redemption

My 26 year-old daughter has bought
a Christmas tree. She stands
at the stove, stirring sausage
and parmesan cheese into scrambled eggs.

It’s that time of the month when food
is scarce, but my daughter
has a knack for making meals
out of sparse ingredients.

I sit with my 3 month-old granddaughter
who rests in her swing.
We play pat-a-cake, then I roll her legs
like the wheels of a choo-choo train.

My daughter comes
to sit next to us at the table,
a jigsaw puzzle spread out
upon its surface.

The picture is of a cabin on a lake,
tall trees in the distance
and water reflecting
the warmth of fire in the windows.

My daughter carefully, delicately touches
each piece with reverence.
“It’s like this, Mom.  
It’s just trial and error.”

And somehow it all makes sense.
I open my arms
to reach for the baby,
and smile.