When I was a little girl, my mom used to make soft boiled eggs and soldiers for breakfast. I would dip the soldiers into the warm, soft yolk and eat them. It’s a warm memory I hold dear to my heart. I’ve been eating soft boiled eggs for breakfast for many years because of my mom. Though I don’t partake in the “soldiers” anymore, every once in a while I tell my kids about them and smile. My mom would butter a slice of bread and then cut it into sticks. She called them soldiers. I don’t know if she made it up, brought it with her from England, or heard about here in the states. I just know that I loved them.
I lost my mom when she was just 45 years old. I was 23, so I wasn’t a little girl anymore, but I hadn’t finished growing up yet. I still hadn’t had any children of my own, so my babies never met their grandmother, they’ve only seen pictures and heard my stories. I still had so many questions to ask, so many things I wanted, and needed to say. In September, it’ll be 20 years since I said goodbye to her. She may have left this Earth, but she never left my heart. I still miss her just as much as I did back then. I still cry once or twice a week without fail, like today. Every once in a while I’ll open a photo album just to see her face and brush my fingers across it, as if to hug her somehow.
And I still think about her every single time I make a soft boiled egg. Today, I wanted soldiers. I don’t know why. I just did. So this post is for you mom. God, I miss you.
Soft Boiled Eggs & Soldiers
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