Mom was an apron wearer.

She wasn’t a messy cook. Not at all. The wearing of the apron may have come to pass due to a combination of tradition and an attempt at preserving her clothes from showing wear as she leaned against the edges of kitchen counters and tables.

I think she also liked finding interesting designs and patterns. Mom had a Christmas apron or two, plus at least one apron to represent each season of the year.

Apparently, first-born Harry took notice of one of those aprons and expressed his impression. Harry was only three at the time and mom had as many babies, but she never forgot that moment:

Connections

A footstep
can connect continents
a sidelook in one revive
a story in another

A small drawing in an Irish country house
three women approaching a stone church
returned our three-year old’s pronouncement
on the panel of my apron

three ladies going to chutch

The church was in his head
four decades later I can see
as well as hear his chutch
delighting now as then
in his interpretation

~ joan vayo 7/8/98

The use of “chutch” twice is not a typo. The little guy’s pronunciation was precious in Mom’s memory.

I wish I’d found a photo of Mom wearing an apron and holding three-year-old Harry. If one exists, I’ll come back and add it. But for now, here’s a look at those three young ones.

Years later both Mom and Dad were proud that we all went out into the world without those apron strings needing even a tiny bit of a trim.

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“Connections” © 1998  Joan Vayo. All rights reserved.

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