so we decided to buy the turkey

I ran to the store
the day before Easter
to buy a few things,
cream for our coffee, breakfast.

Holy shit, it's just us this year!
I realized while shopping the
cereal aisle for a semi-healthy selection
the boys will eat without too much protest.

I am the one who needs to cook the ham tomorrow!
Scalloped potatoes, corn casserole, twice baked potatoes,
salads, pies-- No aunts or grandmothers
with their flour sifters, hand kneaded dough,
home stirred sauces, just us.

I throw the Honeycomb into the basket.
Don't forget, milk. Eggs.
I am working without a list.

The store was out of ham
so we decided to buy the turkey
(breast that is.)

We sat at one end
of our long table
the five of us,
with microwaved corn,
sweet potato casserole
with ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg
and baby marshmallows.
The cherry pie made with fruit from a can.
But at least I baked it.
At least I cut the frozen crust into
fancy lattice.

We always thought my mother worried
too much. Planned too much. We thought
she should just chill out and enjoy the company.

But here I am. I forgot to make the biscuits.
I did not even think of the vanilla ice cream.
I forgot to send my nieces and nephews
anything. Not even cards.

But here we are, just
thankful we are together. I
wonder if the boys even know
what they are missing.

The phone rings,
it is home. The rattle of
dishes in the sink, clatter
of cousins on the foyer stairs.
They send wishes in boxed baskets
and electronic photographs.

I close my eyes. I can almost hear my mother
offering coffee. She already knows who will take it,
and how. Grandchildren's favorite cookies
are placed on plates.

Sweet rolls and ham slice leftovers
are sent home as they all make their way
across the coast without us. Next year, I
will be ready for this. Ready to plan,
design, build a day my children will miss
when they too move on.

Survivor Poem: Poet's Choice Trigger #37