An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

I miss my dad's cooking the smell of food wafting from the kitchen roasts, barbeque, soups flaky buttery pastries although he can't eat them because of the sugar it doesn't stop him from being hospitable to everyone he knows. "Are you hungry?" He will drop everything to cook you a meal. He braved going to the store in a snowstorm to get ice cream during a craving. Experimenting with recipes and asking me to taste test them. The only reason to go home again but it's a good one. To see him truly happy in the kitchen entertaining, taking care of the ones who walk through his door. It kills me to know this doesn't happen as often as it should.

  Two strings dusty and unused for a very long time. Not a great quality they told me but it should suffice for someone who is just starting to play. What matters to me is that it is a connection to who has played before. The blood that runs in my veins the tunes that used to float through the air. It will take me years. It will take a lot of practice. "Headless chicken" screeching until I get the bowing and the fingering just right. But the joy is in the journey In the discovery and the challenge I hope my ancestors smile even if they might cringe as I take baby steps into perfection.

8,724:  the distance in miles between the Philippines and the Eastern coast of the US 28,470: the number of days in 78 years 4000: the distance in miles between London, UK and North Carolina 18,262: the number of days in 50 years Mother Eight thousand seven hundred and twenty four That is how many miles from beginning to end. Where the story starts to where it finally ends. From one land to another to one culture to the next Quite a journey is it not? Twenty eight thousand four hundred and seventy That is how many days from beginning to end Where the tale will start and it still keeps going. From one moment to another to one adventure to the next It's an epic is it not? Daughter Four thousand That is how many miles from beginning to now. A home I've never known to an abode I've always been My heart still yearns for what could have, should have It's a tragedy, is it not? Eighteen thousand two hundred and sixty two That is how many days from beginning to end When the saga...