My parents' big beige White Westinghouse stocked with foodstuffs
New and old, foreign and domestic, healthy and hedonic
From the adjustable top rack to the stay-crisp drawers and even the interior door shelving

Saran wrapped ends of cheese, partial tomatoes, onion halves                                                                           Morsels of steak and sausage sheathed in heavily wrinkled aluminum foil
Remains of the week's meals in colorful mismatched tupperware

Mason jars of pickles, chutney, solomon gundy, Nanny's strawberry jam
Dregs of orange juice and milk sit patiently
For someone to take a last sip

Condiments, oh the condiments
A sauce, a spread, a dip, a dressing, a marinade, a tapenade
An Imodium bottle or two

In the adjoining freezer a wall of icy flesh stares back, ominously
Ham hocks, rump roasts, chicken livers, whole fish
Items I have never purchased or cooked myself but will eat if served

My parents' refrigerator is both
A comforting and disturbing reminder
Of what I am and what I am not

I, having lived on my own since college,
Possess a fridge quite easy to navigate
In nearly new condition

My fridge is not a sign of prosperity
Nor an arsenal of love
It is a machine used mostly for keeping Coke Zero cold

Now at 32
Standing transfixed in front of my parents' fridge
A freon-induced anxiety causes me to wonder

When, if ever, I'll have my own messy and beautiful
Fridge. Family.
And later: if that's even what I want.

TAGS: parents refrigerator

MEGAN POWER was born and raised in Atlantic Canada. Her first love is nonfiction, but a complicated affair with poetry began back when Mrs. Banfield drilled “Farewell to Nova Scotia”, a traditional folk song, into the first graders' heads with a passion bordering on sadism: Farewell to Nova Scotia, your sea-bound coast / Let your mountains dark and dreary be / For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed / Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me? She has lived in Japan, Mexico, the U.S. and the U.K. Her work has appeared in print in America West, Razor, San Antonio Express-News, Women's Health and Fitness, NSIDE and on various websites. She has taught adult education for more than ten years. Fireworks, gas station wine, trashtastic pop, Thursdays, smoked salmon and intertextuality bring her an effervescent kind of happiness. One of the original contributors at TNB (she wrote the inaugural post!), Megan is currently a Master's in Creative Writing student at Trinity University in Wales, where she spends unromantic amounts of time at a gray study carrel working on a collection of thematically linked short stories called Modern Monogamy. Hit her up at meganlpower@gmail.com or stop by her photo blog: http://meganpower.blogspot.com She thanks you very much for reading and commenting.

This entry was posted on Sunday, April 19th, 2009 at 10:07 am and is filed under Appreciations, Nonfiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.