The story behind this song
Her kitchen has smelled like warm yeast and lavender for as long as anyone can remember. She warms the teapot twice — her one rule — keeps a drawer of broken crayons for whichever kid wanders in, and still claps loudest at every recital, then leaves early so your mom can have the moment.
Mother's Day cards never had a box for any of that. This one gets said out loud, with the morning light coming through her kitchen door. For the grandma who mothered two generations and called it nothing much.
Lyrics
Sunday light through a kitchen door,
the kettle's on like always before.
the kettle's on like always before.
You kept a drawer of broken crayons
for every kid who wandered in,
warmed the teapot twice — your one rule —
and let us lick the rolling pin.
The radio hummed old hymns at seven,
bread rising somewhere, always bread —
half my childhood smells like your kitchen,
warm yeast and lavender.
for every kid who wandered in,
warmed the teapot twice — your one rule —
and let us lick the rolling pin.
The radio hummed old hymns at seven,
bread rising somewhere, always bread —
half my childhood smells like your kitchen,
warm yeast and lavender.
They gave you one day in May —
as if one day could hold it.
as if one day could hold it.
Happy Mother's Day, Grandma —
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
You showed up to every recital
with butterscotch deep in your purse,
clapped the loudest, left the earliest
so Mom could have it first.
You stitched our names in winter blankets,
crooked letters, perfect love —
you'd call it nothing much at all.
It was never nothing much.
with butterscotch deep in your purse,
clapped the loudest, left the earliest
so Mom could have it first.
You stitched our names in winter blankets,
crooked letters, perfect love —
you'd call it nothing much at all.
It was never nothing much.
They gave you one day in May —
so we're giving you the morning.
so we're giving you the morning.
Happy Mother's Day, Grandma —
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
Someday I'll warm the teapot twice
for a kid who isn't mine,
and somebody small will ask me why —
I'll say a great lady taught me that line.
for a kid who isn't mine,
and somebody small will ask me why —
I'll say a great lady taught me that line.
Happy Mother's Day, Grandma —
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
you earned it twice, you know.
Once for the babies you rocked at midnight,
once for the babies of babies you didn't let go.
The flour on your hands says everything —
you never stopped, you never will.
Sunday light through a kitchen door —
stay right there. We're coming over.
stay right there. We're coming over.
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