Yesterday morning I could heqr my sister making noise in the kitchen. In a few minutes I could smell chicken adobo. Then I heard her son, “Mom, what are you cooking?” It’s such a warm feeling to hear their early morning conversations. I wanted to tell my nephew, “Always remember that smell – chicken, vinegar and soy sauce with onions and garlic and ginger. And when you become a man and smell that same smell, remember her waking up early to cook today’s meal for you… She cares.”
I thought of Kris Kristofferson’s song he wrote that was made famous by Johnny Cash. This song has helped so many alcoholics and drug addicts stop destroying their lives, who are in recoveries even as I write this article. I cry each time I hear the song.with such powerful words. How powerful a smell of frying chicken can brings you to reflect and think of what you have lost. It can be regained, recovered and bring us to tge next level in our lives.
Here’s the lyrics to the song.
Well I woke up Sunday morning with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt. And the beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad so I had one more for dessert. Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes and found my cleanest dirty shirt. Then I washed my face and combed my hair and fumbled down the stairs to meet the day.
I’d smoked my mind the night before with cigarettes and the song I’ve been picking. But I lit my first and watched a small kid playing with the can that he’s been kicking. Then I walked across the street and caught the smell of Sunday someone frying chicken. And it me back to somethin’ I’d lost somewhere, somehow along the way.
On a Sundsy morning sidewalk.
I’m wishing Lord that I was stoned. Cause there’s something in a Sunday that makes a body feel alone. And there’s nothing short of dying. That’s half as lonesome as the sound, Of a sleeping city sidewalk. In a Sunday morning sidewalk of Sunday morning coming down.