Baking in My Mother’s Kitchen

Tonight I finally broke down and baked cookies with Otis. My mother is the baker in our family and Otis has always been his apprentice. He’s been begging me to bake with him since just a few days after the accident and I have been putting him off ever since. I was not ready for this. As I wrote this I am still dealing with immensely overwhelming anxiety. The cookies are in the oven. Her recipe in their oven. I suppose I should look at this is some poetically healing way but, frankly, it is just tearing me to shreds.