It was a warm, fall day and I was five years old again. I was playing on our back balcony. It was mid day. My mother, who had been out there with me, went into the house to make our lunch.
She surprised me with my all time favourite, which we ate outside. Campbell’s tomato rice soup. With saltines crumbled on top. And grilled cheese sandwiches.
Honestly, it was as if I was teleported back in time. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face and arms. I could hear her asking me if I was hungry. I could see the curls of smoke rising out of the bowl of soup; and feel the first spoonful burn my lips and tongue. I could taste the acidic tartness of the tomatoes. And I could see the melted cheese oozing out from between the slices of buttery, grilled bread.
The images flashing before my eyes were so real, I could see her buttering both sides of the bread (plain, white, sliced sandwich loaf), putting a slice of yellow Kraft cheese between the two pieces and putting the sandwich Continue reading