Candy Ribbons

“It’s easy to make candy ribbons.”

Momma had said that with a smile. She taught me to tie my fingers with them, the glassy, orange peels, shining with diamond granules and to press down just enough to stretch them thin and wrap them tight. They smelled like Sunday.

She made them for my birthday, my graduation, and put them in boxes when I moved out. She’d laughed and pressed them into my hand with her old ring and said, “Now it’s a sure thing.”

She’d been baking when her heart stopped; candy ribbons for a baby girl. They burned.

I can’t listen to messages; I’m busy preheating the oven. I ignored the funeral arrangements; I have to boil more water. How can I focus on will readings and family gatherings when I can’t even get the pieces thin enough to tie?

The recipe for candy ribbons was so easy before.