Sometimes...

I miss my mother. I miss her when I have things on my mind and she's not here to help me work through them. I miss her when I'm having a glass of wine on my own. When dinner was delicious but there's no one left at the dinner table to talk to. I miss her when I'm proud of my children. When the work day was long and walking into the house you don't smell dinner cooking. I miss her when I spot a hole in my sock... But I miss her most when I'm cooking. Especially when I cook something that she thought me how to do. Or when it smells like home. Or when I lick that wooden spoon... I just miss my mother...