The soup ladle

A dear friend of ours, died recently.

My husband and I met Shirley in the "winter" of her life, although we have known her many years now. She was 90.

A co-worker was helping her sons clean out her home. He returned with several professional stainless steel soup ladles that were going to be thrown out. Shirley and her husband had run a catering service years ago. He asked me if I would like one of the ladles.

I accepted it, although I secretly had been wishing that somehow they would magically find the plastic lid to my small stainless steel RevereWare bowl that had gotten lost in her kitchen during a book club potluck a few years back.

"I've already got a soup ladle," I rued, still missing the lid to the bowl I had used to transport food everywhere.

But sure enough, as I dished up the minestrone I made for my son's birthday party dinner last night, I needed a second ladle. And I thought of our friend Shirley.

I know I will be missing her often.