She had been making soup every Sunday for as long as I could remember.
Chicken noodle.
Beef barley.
Split pea with ham.
Minestrone whenever the weather turned cold.
She poured everything into cheap plastic containers, labeled the lids with a black marker in her looping handwriting, and carried them downstairs to the basement freezer.
CHICKEN NOODLE – NOV.
BEEF BARLEY – FOR GREG.
SPLIT PEA – SAVE SOME FOR LILY.
The freezer itself was an ancient white chest freezer Dad bought years before he died.
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