(Wrote this for Mom. It's just a thing. Kinda switched from 2nd person to 1st too and my grammar is terrible too so. .) 👇 You watch her cook. Witnessing. And suddenly this universe of unknown proportions and unfathomable depths shrinks. . Into the tiny cozy space of a 4 by 4 room. You call it the kitchen. And right there before you she stands. Mother. You watch her chop the onions, peel potatoes, slice carrots. You watch the practiced rhythm of a wrist handle the knife. Steady. Unwavering. . I watch her stir up a stew, I watch her turn over the stove s knob and trigger the lighter, I watch as a lotus of blue and yellow flickers to life at its centre, and I watch her set the pot on the stove. I watch her, forgetting time and space. I watch her because this moment is blessed. I watch her as if I might die within the hour. I watch her because for some inexplicable reason, I must. Because somehow deep down I feel that ...