There are a million wooden spoons. I’m sure I could go to any store from a Walmart to the highest-end Kitchen gadget store to replace the one I have. But the one I have has a special function that none of those other spoons would have. The spoon that I have is able to transport me back in time.
This wooden spoon is the spoon my mother used to stir her brownie batter with and, when I was being good, I would be allowed to lick the leftover batter from that spoon. When I become old enough to help in the kitchen, I was entrusted with the spoon and left on my own to make the brownies without my mom’s help and, as a teen is wont to do, I still licked the spoon.
This wooden spoon has had an epic journey and has lived in many kitchens but it now finds its place in my home. It was one of the only kitchen items I chose to keep from my mom’s vast collection of kitchen gadgets after she passed away. It shares its space with the shiny stainless steel utensils, in just as shiny a container, on the counter in my kitchen. It looks like a misfit toy lost in the pristine surroundings of Santa’s workshop but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
There are times when I am afraid to use the spoon for fear that it will break and I will lose that tangible part of the past that I shared with my mother. It feels like the last piece of her that I can physically hold on to and be six years old again in our kitchen.
This inanimate object is far from lifeless and its spirit will continue to fill my kitchen, and my heart.