On Saturday mornings you relaxed, you made breakfast, the girls played, and we talked. Now I make breakfast (You do not even want to know what your saucepans look like now,) and the girls played. Anyhow, we continued your tradition of pancakes on Saturdays. It so happens that Wall Mart carries buttermilk pancakes which are adequate especially because I never have to worry about the "perfect" batter. Luckily, I had mastered your Haitian eggs by osmosis from standing over your sizzling fryer over all those years. So the girls were fine on Saturday mornings for a long while. I wish I paid more attention to what you made for them the rest of the week. Tiny, I tried hard to stay away for processed food, another mini-obsession of yours, but it was impossible to do farmers market et al like you used to do. We did find Trader's Joe very useful but for a few Saturday evenings I had to choose between Trader's Joe and tennis practice. By the way, I know now why you had to have the CD player under the kitchen cabinet: because you were never going to get the time to seat and listen anywhere else. And also why the dust pan and packer had to be at arms-length. I still don't know why you stockpiled a year's worth of spice. I learned very quickly why you took so long in the shower once the school year began: it was the only moment of solitude you would get in the course of the day. Tiny, I kid you not, there were mornings that I began my devotion in shower and finished it a few steps away from Mrs. Edmond's Grade 2 classroom. Maybe one day, as it may please our Lord, I will also understand why you had to leave so early. Or maybe on seeing you, and Him, I will be too happy to ask. Maybe.