I can remember Dad
preparing food for a large group
he was a master in the kitchen
preparing the meal on the stove
going between tables and cabinets
pulling out pots and pans
orchestrating the clatter of utensils
and china into a cacophony of sound
music to the ears of the hungry
as the wondrous odors wafted from the kitchen
the conversations became louder
until the food was served
then a quiet while they indulged in the succulent
cuts of meat, chili sauces, veggies and breads.
Until yesterday I thought he loved cooking because
he was his mother’s favorite and worked beside her
to feed his father and family of twelve
but then I remembered he served in the Coast Guard
selected for kitchen duty
second in command of the daily meals
service for two hundred men a day
He loved his work and the hurried pace
joking with his cohorts and officers
The expertise from those four years of training
came into play after his discharge
anytime there was a wedding
or a church event, he always volunteered
to be in the kitchen pulling together
with others to bring food to the hungry
He thought his life work would be in his own restaurant
but there was not enough money to raise a family
he opted for plaster instead
the process was similar
large bags of cement substituted for flour
houses instead of cakes
intense labor to meet a deadline
all for the love of the work.
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