Wednesday, May 17, 2006

My Mother's Knife


I watched my mom as she prepared dinner, her favorite knife in hand and it occurred to me that despite the countless knife collections she has this one knife is the only one I have ever seen her use. It was a part of a set my dad brought from a street vendor on his way home from work 24 years ago. It was the show piece of the set, none of the other knives had the same handle. People always admire her knife and ask where she purchased it from because they want one too. My dad has been unsuccessfully looking for a replacement knife just like it for years; it is almost as if only one of those knives was made.


I looked at the knife and noticed the handle is worn from years of use. Then it hit me that the very first solid food my siblings and I had as babies was prepared with the help of this knife. This knife has been used in the preparation of every single meal my mother has made for the past 24 years. There are 24 years worth of love and laughter embedded into that handle fused with the wood and the stainless steel rivets holding it together.

My mother claims to cook only for those that she loves which by the looks of it means everyone because she feeds everyone that comes in through our door. It is her personal philosophy that when you prepare a meal for someone it is more than just sustenance you are offering them in reality you are giving them a piece of yourself.

Mind you my dad is no slouch when it comes to cooking,he did it professionally for many years in fact he’s been cooking longer than my mom. My pops is a great cook but you can taste the difference in their food even when they prepare the same dishes using the same recipe. My mom says it’s because papi doesn’t use her knife. I think it’s because mami’s joy for life and aura finds its way into the food as she prepares it. When she cooks she always entertains us with stories of her childhood and the history of the dish she is preparing. Our kitchen is always filled with laugher and wonderful aromas. People always tend to linger over our dinner table long after the meal has been finished. Whenever I invite a friend over they always ask, “Did ma cook?” they love her food.

I once had a bf whose mom had passed away several years before; his family was very dysfunctional they were not into displays of affection. As a result he found all the hugging and stuff that goes on in my house odd. One day he was sitting at the table helping my mom peel potatoes for dinner and my mom put her knife down and came up behind him and hugged him. She kissed the top of his head and said “I love you pio pio (her nickname for him, slang for baby chick) you’re such a good boy.” His reaction to this day still chokes me up. He lowered his head and started crying. He raised his arm to my face to show me his goose bumps. He later told me his own mother had never hugged or kissed him, she had never told him she loved him. Even though we are no longer a couple he still remains devoted to my mother, he still calls her “ma”. He’s even tried looking for a knife like my mother’s because it reminds him of her.

I'm starting to think the knife has magic powers because whenever my mom takes her knife in hand my father always appears out of no where as if by magic and tells her, “Babe be careful I don’t want you to cut yourself.” I guess his loving warning is a talisman because she’s never cut herself using that knife. However I’m a different story. When I was around 9 years old I was slicing a bagel with that very same knife and it slipped cutting the palm of my hand. I ran like a pendeja (coward) to the bathroom without showing mom. I panicked I wasn’t supposed to handle that knife without supervision. When I opened my hand to wash it off in the bathroom sink I saw the cut and the blood and got woozy and promptly fainted in the bathroom. Shortly afterwards my parents noticed I was no where to be found and my dad went looking for me and found me face down on the bathroom floor ceramic tile pattern embedded in my face. I’ve never lived that down to this day my parents tease me about it. Oh yeah and by the way I have never touched my mother’s knife again.

Labels: mom

Posted by @ 10:28 AM
3 comment from:  DannieS72,  Laila K,  Aisha,