Fried Eggs & Family

Posted on Saturday, August 29th, 2020 at 9:25 pm

Whenever I think of fried eggs, I think of my childhood neighbor brother from another mother and his mother, Lynda. The eggs were hot large grade A hard fried in bacon grease over a gas stove, smashed up with a fork so the yolk and the whites were crushed together and slathered in margarine from little plastic tubs with yellow flowers. White bread toast made in a real pop up toaster with more of the plastic tub margarine.

My friends mom was like your favorite aunt. She smoked, but hated it and was constantly trying to quit. She swore occasionally, sported a no bullshit attitude and did not suffer foolishness of any kind. She love her Jesus and her family and friends fiercely. She spoke her mind without hesitation. She was kind and generous beyond measure.

Fried eggs remind me of family. Not of blood, but of that which chooses you and makes you theirs.