This Is a What?

This is an Aplet.



This is a Cotlet.

I know they look alike,
but Aplets are sweet.

and Cotlets are a little tangy.

Dad loved them,

but, as a child, they weren't on my list of favorites.

I had forgotten all about them until last Thursday, when Shane came home with a box of Aplets and Cotlets from Bishop Carlin. Stating, "He said you would know what they are."

It was a magic moment.

And instantly memories of Dad loving them filled my mind.

So, to honor Dad's memory,

I ate one...it was better then I remembered!

So I ate another one and then throughout the week

another and another...

In fact, I have acquired a taste for them.

And I ate them all!

One of the great things about them according to the box:

"One reason to love Aplets and Cotlets is

because they have a third less calories than chocolate!"

I would still take chocolate over Aplets and Cotlets,

but Dad would be proud of me for enjoying all of these for him.

I Wish

Mom holding me. Isn't she beautiful!
She loves so completely, so tenderly.
She is a bit of heaven on earth.

I have always known if I talked to Mom, everything would be alright...and it was.

I wish Mom could hold me one more time so I could feel the familiar assurance of her arms.

I wish when she hugged and kissed me good night she knew who she was kissing.

I wish I could sit in the kitchen and visit with her as the smell of baking bread filled the air, or eat one of her hot-out-of-the-pan scones, or any of the good food she use to make.

I wish I could hear her ask, "Are you hungry? Would you like a bowl of fruit and a piece of toast?" And I would say, "Yes" and watch her butter her love all over that toast for me.

I wish I could empty my troubled heart to her and hear her loving compassionate words, because I know her love for me is ever present and constant.

I wish I could listen to her talk and soak in all her wisdom.

I wish I could see her smile, hear her laugh and experience her zest for life the way it use to be.

I wish I could love as openly as she does.

I wish when she said, "Kay Marie" she understood I am her daughter and the light of recognition would sparkle in her eyes.

I wish she didn't think I am a nice lady that comes to visit her.

I want my Mom.
I need my Mom.
I miss Mom.

And I wish.