Knife Skills

I knew the carving knife would be dull.

There are things men don’t cook when they lose their wives. Things that need carving would be on that list. An Easter ham, a Thanksgiving turkey.

So I was betting the carving knife I pulled out of my deceased sister-in-law’s kitchen drawer would be dull and a quick test with my thumb confirmed just that. I searched among the kitchen tools and found the knife sharpener.

Holding both the knife and the sharpener in my hands, I walked into the living room where my brother, older than me by nine years, lay in a hospital bed, attached to his oxygen machine. He was wearing blue jeans and a western plaid shirt, dressed up because the rest of his family was coming to an early Thanksgiving dinner.

He was unbearably thin. And too weak to sit up by himself for more than a moment or two. We always held our hands behind his back, not touching but just inches away, lest he weaken and fall over. It was how one would try to protect a newly-walking toddler from falling into the coffee table.

“I never knew how to do this right.”

“Give me that.”

He slowly raised his hands from where they’d been resting atop his belt buckle. He had so wanted to dress up, get out of his sweats, and look ‘decent’ that he’d insisted on a belt for his jeans. He was dressed the way he had dressed practically the entire time I’d known him – close to 70 years.

He gestured for the knife and the sharpener.

I thought maybe he’d tell me how to sharpen the knife but it never occurred to me that he’d want to do it himself.

“Give me that. I’ll show you.”

There he was, thin, emaciated, barely moving but he reached out for the knife and the sharpener and because he was my big brother and I had always done what he said, I handed them over.

And he showed me, the way to run the sharpener down the knife and the knife down the sharpener in the rhythm of the finest chef. His arms wobbled and the knife sometimes came too close to his belt buckle but he kept up until he put the sharpener down and tested the knife blade with his thumb.

“That’s how you do it. Here you go.” He handed me the knife and the sharpener and refolded his hands on his belt buckle.

And I went back in the kitchen and practiced so I wouldn’t forget what he’d just taught me.

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Discover prompt: Teach