…My first, happiest and ongoing memories of my mom revolved around popcorn. In that arena, we were truly kindred. When I was small (and she was always large!), my mom would lie on the couch to watch TV with a black-speckled metal turkey roaster pan filled with popcorn. I would squeeze in behind angled knees, reach across her rotund hips and soft belly and dig into that deliciousness…her hand often meeting mine. Happy crunching and munching with my mother. Nothing else in the world mattered in those moments…
