The Daily Prompt shows up in my email every morning and I often go, “wow, that’s interesting” and check the next mail. Perhaps because we are essentially frozen in today and the whole household is home on a Monday, or maybe because the topic made me think of a very old memory, I decided to write about one of the first places I recall as home.
The mornings are what I remember most of all; warm and cozy and bright yellow, like sunflowers and happy. I would wake up with my very young mama and she would let me drink coffee with her while she got ready for work. She made mine special, with more milk than coffee, but I felt like a grown up. She likely had those grown up feelings as well, even though she was only 19 and I was already three.The snow in Kansas that year sometimes covered the front porch and made exiting seem impossible, the drifts being as tall as me, but inside that kitchen with my mama, it was sunshine yellow colored happy. We would move from this small haven soon after these memories, and literally over a hundred more times before I began high school, but no matter where we lived, my mama was my home.