14 January 2012


The table groans: herring three ways, smoked salmon, hardtack and rye bread, beet salad and pickled onions, meatballs simmering in the crock pot, ham and the sharp tang of cheese. Laughter and talk fill the air, escalating as the pot of glogg reduces, and as my guests make merry, I remember my heritage, my grandmother’s smorgas, the relatives drawn from miles around, the children at the children’s table, my mother’s face pink with happiness.

It seems fitting, somehow, today is her birthday. Skaal, Mom. Skaal.


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