in my mother’s kitchen i watch my oldest daughter, the one that is dedicated to the lord, just like all first borns – i watch her help her buscia.
buscia in polish means grandmother. if you’ve never had a buscia, i strongly recommend that you get one. they are definitely the cure for what ails you sometimes. especially when they are carrying a small vat of homemade gravy.
i am rolling up eleanor’s tights on my fingers and she’s waiting somewhat patiently to put her foot into the pink legs for the outfit she’s picked herself. i curl her hair and when she looks into the mirror, she pauses and tells me, “mom, i look new.”