Dangerous

Massapequa NY

22 July, 2021

12:04 AM

Description

It's such an easy whirlpool to stumble into inadvertently. The covering is deceptive, fragrant with treasured memories and presumably safe while intentionally hiding the dangers. I scrupulously attempt to avoid it on my daily walk through life, but sometimes I must admit I do succumb. That happened again yesterday, and I now realize how unhealthy it is. My fall was triggered, not by sorrow, but disguised with nostalgia. I remembered the kitchen, which reluctantly I abandoned four years ago. My dependable cuisinart was ample, not like the smaller version I currently own. The oven was a wall model allowing views of casseroles, cupcakes and cookies baking. The counter was ample and the red automatic coffeemaker was always kept warm. And more importantly, the square room with brick walls and charcoal slate floor was never empty. It always harbored at least one member of the Fabulous Four, at least in memory. I seemed to have forgotten that wasn't always true. I also wiped away the pressured moments when arriving home I was weary, after a complicated day in my office. Often wrestling with a fervent wish to take a nap. I proceeded to prepare an edible dinner for four active teenagers and a tired husband returning from a cross country flight. Although it is easy to recall dinner being prepared for a tired family, I can't seem to recall admiring the large applicance whirling with ingredients for a quick spaghetti sauce, or even glancing in the wall oven checking on bread baking. Nor do I focus on the night when a coffee cake fell out of the wall oven landing perilously near to a high chair. No, that frantic day is too deeply submerged to rise to the top of my whirlpool. I must admit my memories seem to be selective. I remember only the sunshine of days gone by, and have brushed the stormy ones aside. Many were buried too deep to ever emerge. And I become painfully aware that I have to avoid those deceptive whirlpools of selected moments more frequently.