Butter Toffee

It makes a very large batch. And when I finish, there will be Enough for my family, my friends, and quite possibly Everyone who lives on our street. On my tiled kitchen counter I have gathered..according to the recipe, The butter, the sugar, the corn syrup, Nuts and chocolate...all the necessary delectable Ingredients to make my mother's Melt-in-the-mouth butter toffee. I make it every Christmas, a family favorite, Like a legacy that must be passed on... A futile attempt to lighten a dark hour ...of long ago. A new bride, I was back then, with inexperience my middle name.. ~ In a tiny kitchen of blue and white. I was dressed in frilly yellow, wearing the apron she had sewn An apron with color as warm as the butter assembled before me My task, was to follow the step by step instructions A recipe, written in her hand Letters so blurred by tears that had taken up new residence in my life The curls of her handwriting Wrapping 'round me like the sound of her voice... A little page from her vast collection.. Wrinkled and dog-eared, with speckles, and splatters Yellow splatters, reminding me of days of my childhood A childhood of naivete', believing still, in a sun that would always shine.. I had so much yet to learn But this was that ghastly year, ....that first Christmas,... without her... It was up to me, determined to carry on ...A simple recipe, ....couldn't be that hard...could it? My novice effort, in those first months without her Was a disappointment. Just not the same as hers, Faintly scorched, the taste...no delight, in the offering... People were polite, accepted it, and ate it to be kind. They smiled, patted my head, gave compliments... But I knew. And, as time passed,..experience taught me. Experience heals. My toffee is good. Quite good...delicious, actually... Still not the same as hers, but my family thinks it's fine. I, however, know better. I Have always known. Today...I melt the butter, I add the sugar, and the syrup Stirring while the mixture turns to amber. It won't take long. My family waits....waits eagerly to savor the sweet flavor The flavor of butter, the flavor of chocolate the flavor of enduring love..........that was my mother.