Paprika, Cayenne, and Memory

On By Jasmine on the GraveIn Bloom, Bone, Roots

He loved my deviled eggs.
Paprika and cayenne, liberally.
Green and black olives, pickle flourishes.
Heavy on the creaminess.

I learned to steam the eggs instead of boil them—
perfecting the art form just for him.

He’d let them be shared for a few hours,
and then they were all his.
He’d say, “Mine,”
and tuck them into the fridge.

Every year he signed me up
to make them for every holiday.

After he passed, no one asked me to make them anymore,
so I stopped.

This is the first Thanksgiving since
that I’m making them once more
for my little family.

Since my daughter’s birth
I have the perfect excuse to do everything.
My heart is in it once again.

The only change to perfection?
I added way more mustard,
and I’m loving it.

© 2025 Raven | Jasmine on the Grave. All rights reserved.

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