Open your hand like this.
I will pretend my mother means open your heart.
Place the store-bought wonton skin in your palm.
She and I never talked about our skin.
Drop a small spoonful of raw ground pork and shrimp filling on the dumpling
skin.
I feel raw today because she cannot make wontons anymore.
Turn the spoon around and dip the handle edge into the scrambled egg and
brush around the meat. The egg wash is the glue for the wonton.
The unsaid is what glues us. Mother to daughter, daughter to
mother, daughter to daughter, mother to mother.
Fold the skin and make a triangle. Press the edges.
Triangle: I press my daughter to me. I press myself to my mother.
Take two points of the triangle, egg wash the tops, and twist like so. That’s
what she would tell me. Just mix like this. Fold like this. Twist like this. Cook
like this.
This is how she said I love you. I say I love you out loud to her
and to her.
