Northern_Lights_2016

23 Ode to Her Cookbook Abby Woytassek This book is presented as a family is created. It’s new and full of possibilities. Open it up. Pot roast for your new husband—his favorite, Next page for your first daughter’s graduation day cake. Flip to the cookies, snickerdoodles, the grandkids are coming. I find you in Pages now yellowed and torn from years of use, Lingering fingerprints and smudges from batter on faithful hands flipping through, Cover patched with tape and edges tattered, Extra notes in neat script as you lived and learned— The signs of a well-worn bible of the kitchen. In Heaven Abby Woytassek In Heaven, I miss you— a resentful human merely being, resigned to this transitory world. In Heaven, you are blooming like the hydrangeas in your earth garden. Eighteen again, proudly wearing the gown you sewed with nimble hands— the gentle ones that once held mine. You stand in youthful glory. No sign of the frail, sallow-skinned, feeble form in which you departed. Strong soul and steady smile remain as always. In Heaven, you wait for me.