Small Moments

June 14, 2013


THIS is a picture of a glass stove top. Actually, it’s a picture of a chip in the surface of MY glass stove top.

When my parents first came to visit me in my new house in Dallas, there were several “rites of passage” that occurred between my parents and I. For example, my dad took me to Home Depot, to buy a lawn mower…and taught me how to mow grass. For the first time. Ever.

And my mom made breakfast for us, in the kitchen of my first home-of-my-own.

She made us scrambled eggs in a very heavy skillet. And as she lifted the skillet away from the burner, the skillet suddenly tipped and chipped a small piece of glass off of the stove top.

The look on my mom’s face was panic. This moment that she had clearly been enjoying  – making breakfast for her family in her son’s home – was replaced with this sudden burst of apologies to me, as if she had somehow defiled the entire structure, rendering it unfit for occupancy.

I assured her that it was OK. And it was.

In fact, whenever I scrub down the countertops, I always maneuver the washcloth strategically around the sharp edges of the chip (it’s pretty dangerous), and think of all of the good times we all had together here in this house in Dallas.

Because on this day especially, I get to allow myself to miss my mom a little more than usual, I have a special appreciation for this little chip.

If I ever sell this house, I think I’m gonna have to take this stove top with me.