Have you ever had one of those moments when you pick up an object and suddenly a flood of memories shows up?  I just felt a torrent of affection and gratitude while holding the old spatula.  Yep, the spatula.

It’s tattered now.  The awesome flexi-silicone edges ripped a month ago from years of faithful service.  So yesterday I bought its replacement… but I just couldn’t use the new one at dinner time tonight.  I had to give my kitchen friend one last turn.  I’m like that sometimes.

Then when I rinsed it for the last time, and held it gently to say goodbye, I suddenly teared-up touching the burn scar on the back of the handle.  I’m not kidding– it was really sweet actually– remembering that I melted that bit in my first New Mexican casita apartment, learning how to cook on a gas stove while wishing I might someday be cooking together with a beloved.  Lots of longing and lonely.

But tonight, four years into our relationship, my heart and mind flooded with memory after memory of food prepared and shared with my Love, thousands of conversations at the kitchen table, and all the little boring, precious pieces of daily life that we’ve shared with each other– sometimes holding that spatula.  Yeah, here are those tears of gratitude again as I write this, for real.  Who knew I’d feel all this love for my Hol, for life, and even for myself tonight… in the good company of one of my favorite utensils. 

Too lovely not to share.

What might happen tomorrow with the wooden spoon?  Goodness, I hope– and for you, too.