A Server of Memories


Photo Credit: V. Slotto

Photo Credit: V. Slotto

It tells its stories of decades past, stories infused with the scent of frying bacon and eggs basted in better— its fine-hewn blade that slipped with ease beneath the crispy whites. And just-brown pancakes awaiting the slather of melted butter and maple syrup (before we knew better). Stories of a family gathered ‘round blue flames of a 1950’s stove each Sunday. Planning for the unraveling of a new day and vying (without luck) to decipher the morning’s sermon delivered in a heavy Irish brogue. I found it yesterday, huddled between the tines of a fork, buried in the back of a deep, cluttered drawer at the old house. The handle, worn now, yet serviceable, red, ridged texture cradled in the palm of my now-wrinkled hand, serving up remembrances of simple days, days before these hands touched pain, held loss. The crack along the back, like earths’ seismic proclamations of changing landscapes, changing lives. Its stainless steel paddle smooth as ice, pressed against my flaccid cheek, a recollection of Mama’s touch upon my fevered brow. And breakfast. Who would have thought it would take this long to find it? Who would have thought I would be the last?

Written for dVerse Open Link Night. Join us and drink deeply of poetry.

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24 thoughts on “A Server of Memories

  1. […] used to belong to my parents. It immediately transported me back in time to my growing-up years and a poem of memories and sensory description made its way into a rough draft that I posted for Open Link […]

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  2. Pamela says:

    Beautiful memories, and thoughts here, Victoria. Sorry for the late visit. Email me, if you can. I would like to talk to you.

    Pamela

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  3. tigerbrite says:

    The British call it a ‘fish slice’ which puzzles those across the pond. So many memories held in its handle:)

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  4. ayala says:

    I love the title, “a server of memories.” I love the sentiments in this. 🙂

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  5. Love the memories you can evoke by finding a loved tool like that.. I assume that it was doomed to the bottom once the non-stick pans were bought.. the prose form works great here..

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  6. such tender remembrance, held in your hand… beautiful Victoria… and yes life is full of seismic changes and loss… what a blessing that we CAN remember the past so we are able to recognize the sweet moments of the present too.

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  7. shanyns says:

    Oh those are feelings I understand and can relate to. Whenever I find something that was my grandma’s, that she used in the kitchen. This has a great feel of family and memories.

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  8. Love how you breathe such life into an inanimate object. Moving write.

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  9. rosross says:

    Nothing is quite as it seems and everything is more than it might be.

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  10. I love the say memories just surge from inanimate objects, and your prose poem takes me into yours. Thank you.

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  11. I have drunk deep Vick with your poetry. To write about an inanimate object in the way you have – is pure gold…thank you. There is a sense of loss, of moments past, but also a value in the memories.

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  12. claudia says:

    how something we find in the house can spark so many memories and takes us literally back in time… beautiful memories here and there’s a bit of the ache felt as well in that last line..

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  13. Bodhirose says:

    I wrote something quite awhile back about my mother’s kitchen drawer and all the OLD stuff found in there…amazing what you can find and the memories they hold… I liked your connection with the spatula, Victoria.

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  14. I love the parallel of worn handle and hands. The line about you being the last really hit me.

    The sad part for me is when I find a spatula I remember my mom spanking us with it!

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  15. They way i read it is a sense of sadness of the one who is the
    last end of family…at the end..
    for the one who is left..at empty nest..
    if so as personal..i still have my father and mother..
    and it is more for my wife to feel this way i think..
    with the family recipes..and just the nieces and nephews..left
    for ending meals…and servers..no longer needed…

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  16. Truedessa says:

    Memories are found everywhere even in a spatula..

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  17. I love how things carry memories–beautifully said Victoria

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  18. lupitatucker says:

    It’s amazing what history and memories are tied to common objects that manage to become a part of our lives day in, day out. And I love the title, “a server of memories.”

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  19. Glenn Buttkus says:

    Prose (narrative) poems are a refreshing shift from classic forms or stanzas, and this piece is vivid, nostalgic, haunting, sad & sweet; perhaps only humans can gleam so much from a sentimental inanimate object; lovely, effective, thanks.

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  20. Mary says:

    So many memories carried from one generation to another. Nicely penned, Victoria.

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  21. wolfsrosebud says:

    I like the nostalgia in this

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  22. Nice! Great food descriptions and sense of your family and home, and all the great things that have imbued this humble object with such significance.

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  23. brian miller says:

    mmm…a spatula…looks like the one that we used to take camping…plenty of those memories by the fire….and of meals shared….cool find v…

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  24. This turns out to be a narrative poem…unintentionally. My computer is overwhelming me with pop-ups right now and they are messing with me big time.

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